Changing It All
by FODforever
Summary: Sookie receives a reality-altering gift from Niall, and makes a plan to right the wrongs in her life; but can she change the past and still hold on to the future? Rated T now, M later. Sookie/Eric, but it's going to take a little while! Through ch 1 D&G.
1. Chapter 1

Ever since reading Dead and Gone, I have wanted a do-over of sorts for Sookie. I couldn't get the idea out of my head, so here we are. First time publishing fanfiction! Hope you like it :)

Charlaine Harris owns all rights to the SVM; written for fun, not profit etc etc

Chapter 1

_Sookie POV_

"You get to choose when" he finished. His skin glowed as he folded the piece of paper and wiped his nose in a very un-fae manner.

I remove my chin from my hands and place them palm-down on the kitchen table between us. My mind is buzzing with the information he has just thrown at me. I can't even remember his name. He came in just as I was sitting down to lunch, introduced himself, and started reading the letter. A letter so surprising that I quickly forgot his introduction. Gran would flay me; no matter what happens you should never forget a person's name within ten minutes of meeting them!

I take a deep breath and address the nose-wiping fairy: "So, let me get this straight: Niall has foreseen that because of my involvement with him, I will soon be captured, tortured and raped beyond all reckoning." Nose-wipe nods, looking bored. "And, in order to avoid this he has now evoked an ancient and unprecedented magic to _send me back in time_ to a place, erm, a time, of my choosing, where I will retain all of my memories?"

Nod. Wipe.

"Yes, it is all as I have explained" he taps the paper he just finished reading from. "The only requirement is that it must be before the first time Niall contacted you, and that when he does approach you, you give him the second letter." He pulls out a second letter from some kind of invisible pocket in the area of his chest. It's sealed with what looks like an ancient crest, and glows slightly. "You will need to keep it on you at all times. Any change in your actions will cause changes in what comes next. Things will not occur exactly as they have in this time-line. He may contact you in a different way, at a different time. You will need to be ready."

"Ooookay." I reach for the letter with an unsteady hand, mind reeling at the possibilities. He covers the envelope with his hand in a protective gesture. "This is a powerful magical artifact, not a groceryshop-food-list to be thrown in your ugly satchel" he sneers. I glance down at my battered tan purse, feeling sorry for it. It didn't know when I put it on this morning it would suffer the censure of the fae-fashion-police.

Nose-Wipe-Fashion-Police produces a ring from his invisi-pocket. "The letter may be stored in here." He holds the letter up to the ring and says "Abdo." I almost laugh, the letter zips into the ring in the exact same way a document looks when it is minimized on a desktop (Amelia set to work almost immediately after she moved in to make sure I had a tutorial in basic computer operation).

"Simply say 'Aperio letter,' to retrieve it." As he speaks the words the letter reappears in his hand.

"Neat" I comment without thinking.

"Yes, it is a very clean and efficient way to store solid matter" he nods as if I have finally said something worthwhile. I decide to forgo mentioning the lesson he needs in colloquial human English as he continues: "You may also store other objects. Given your… history, it would not be remiss to put in a stake, some silver and whatever humans use to kill other humans. Simply say 'Aperio' and the name of the object and it will appear in your hand."

I think about this for a moment, before asking: "Are there any size or weight limits?" He nods again, pleased with the question. "The ring is actually a portal to a rented-out space in another dimension. Nothing is actually stored in the ring itself. You could store this entire house in the ring if you wanted, the only draw-back being that when you call it back, it would crush you." He wipes his nose again, and I wonder if there is such a thing as a fae runny nose.

"I, wait, what does this letter say?" He stands up, looking impatient. "That is none of your concern. The Prince is giving you a great gift; all he asks is that you deliver this letter. Think of the exact date you would like to return to, I will be back in one hour." And with that, Nose-Wipe-Fashion-Police was gone.

My first inclination is to simply return to the night Eric brought me to meet my grandfather, deliver the letter, and have that be the end of it. Mission accomplished. But my mind kept turning over the words "Any change in your actions will cause changes in what comes next." Meaning… I could change the future… well, past. Whatever, I could save Gran! I could steer clear of the whole messy business with Bill! I could avoid all this supe drama before it even happens!

I quickly exit the kitchen, grab a hand-full of paper from Amelia's printer, and start to plot out the events of the last two years.

I could change it; I could change it all.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

_Sookie POV_

Forty minutes later I had filled up six pages before I realized I didn't know dates for most of the events listed. I knew when Gran died, and I knew the night I'd first had sex with Bill, but that was it. I stared at the pages, wondering how I could be so unaware of my own life. I profoundly wished I had kept a journal. I guess when you're lovin' and fightin' supes, it's not really a habit to stop and note that it's the third Wednesday in November.

I lay the papers out and examine all the major events: Meeting Bill, meeting Eric, Gran's death, Rene, Longshadow, going to Dallas, the were-sniper, Eric losing his memories, Hadley, going to Rhodes, everything with Quinn… there are too many to count. Right now all I know is that I need to save Gran, which puts me smack at the beginning of the whole mess. I figure I can go back a few weeks before I meet Bill; that should give me some time to relax and really cook my noodle on how to best change the past… future… whatever!

I decide June 15th is my magic day, and take a moment to stare at my ring. It's beautiful, but simple. I guess so nobody notices it. It's a white-gold band with an opal the size of an eraser-head centered in the middle. The opal seems to glow slightly; it's all colors and the purist white all at once. It reminds me of Naill. I wonder if it's meant to.

Naill. What is he writing to himself? Maybe a warning about what's to come... Is this whole thing, this _gift_ really a good idea?

"Have you made your choice?" I jump at the interruption to my thoughts. I turn to (lord I wish I could remember his name!) and say as calmly as possible: "A little over two years ago, June 15th."

DING! "I said order up, Sweet Thang!" I turn to see that not only am I in the middle of a shift at Merlotte's, but that Lafeyette is looking at me with a "_Why_ are you dragging ass and not picking up this order?" look. "Lafeyette!" I yell, and practically jump the counter into the kitchen to kiss him on the cheek. "Sook, I know you love me, but I do _not_ swing that way (unless paid very, very well). So you need to get these burgers over to those red-necks before they come lookin' for them and lynch me."

I load the food onto my tray with what must be the biggest smile on my face and head over to the aforementioned red-necks. I expect déjà-vu as I take orders and serve customers, but working for years at Merlotte's makes the shift feel as old and new as any other. I pretty much ignore Arlene. It feels a bit unfair to punish her for being the religious zealot she hasn't become yet, but you don't ask Jesus to strike my friends dead and then chit-chat with me. I don't care what reality or timeline you live in. Plus, the very idea of her talking about Rene makes my skin crawl. I imagine her telling me about her big weekend plans. I'd smile, and nod, and then scream that Rene is a murdering bastard with a sorry excuse of a Cajun accent.

Yes, better to just ignore Arlene.

It turns out I only had an hour left on my shift (Sam told me after I'd stayed an extra half-hour to make sure to double check the schedule). As I walk out to my car I reflect on how strange it is to have Sam be so… boss-like. He let me know my shift was over, and was friendly as ever, but there was a distance I wasn't used to feeling. I realize with a shock that Sam doesn't know that I know he's a shifter. The confidence and friendship that came with knowing his secret, along with him saving my life so many times in the last two years, was quite simply gone. I sat in my car for a while as the realization hit me. Sam was my boss, period.

Isn't that what I'd always worked so hard at? "Sam is my boss" had pretty much been my mantra ever since I started working there. Would Sam and I ever be close if I stopped or prevented all the traumatic events to come? Fear gripped me.

_Any change in your actions will cause changes in what comes next._ It hadn't occurred to me that out of all the death and trauma of the last two years there had come good things too. Could I stand to avoid the people I've grown to care about, knowing the trade-off for their safety and my sanity is never knowing them as I once had? No. I shake my head and start the short drive home. I will just have to find a way. I will find a way to re-build my relationships _and_ avoid bloodshed.

I pull up to the house to see Gran sweeping the porch. As I cut the engine I focus on not crying.

Crying will only worry Gran. I won't cry.

No I won't.

As I reach the steps I burst into tears and throw myself at my grandmother like I'm seven years old again, feeling like she is all I have in the world. She holds me for a solid minute without asking what's wrong, slowly rubbing my back. "Honey, what is the matter? Did something happen at work?" I sniffle the last of my tears back and rub my nose, which reminds me of Nose Wipe, which reminds me of my ring. I plaster on my best reassuring smile before launching in to some story about how I'd had a day-dream at work that something happened to her, and I was just being worried and silly.

"Oh, as if I could _ever_ leave you to handle Jason by yourself! That boy worries me Sookie. He has been running around doing God knows what, a different girl for every night of the week! Come inside, I made your favorite pie. Did you see the story in the paper about Main Street…"

I let Gran's chatter wash over me like a wave. I spend the night talking with Gran, watching tv and doing some light cleaning. As I brush my hair after Gran has gone to bed, I reflect on how simple things seem, how easy. I know soon I will have to start thinking about Rene, and murder and vampires, and all other kinds of nastiness. But tonight, I just want to curl up with a book, sneak another piece of pie, and remember how once I was just a bar maid named Sookie, who lived with her Gran, avoided men, and tried her best to stay out of everyone's head. Even her own.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_Sookie POV_

I wake up early, practically bouncing with excitement. Gran's alive (in fact, I can smell that she's frying bacon in the kitchen), Jason has yet to totally fuck up in the myriad of ways he has managed to fuck up (Lord, I feel bad just _thinking_ swear words living with Gran again), and I don't have to worry about paying off property taxes, or when my health insurance will run out or imminent death (just yet).

I pet Tina as I get up and stretch. It seems silly, but Tina being alive makes everything feel right. Her death was so overshadowed by Gran's that I never really got a chance to mourn her. I think I'll sneak her some bacon later; life is short. I notice her long hair is looking a little matted; I wonder where Gran put her brush after the last time she groomed her?

I feel a pang as I realize how much I always let Gran take on. She always handled everything, and here I had been, always feeling like _such_ an adult for just taking care of my own car and job, and helping with the cleaning. As I brush my teeth I promise myself I will not take Gran for granted. It's almost embarrassing now after having done everything for myself for the last two years, to see that before Gran died I had practically no responsibility! Well, I'm going to do more than work and eat Gran's cooking this time.

In the middle of brushing I look in the mirror about to spit and I almost choke. The image staring back at me is almost too much to take. There are so many things that have changed; I look so different. In some ways, without all the vamp blood I've ingested, I look worse. My teeth and hair aren't as bright, my skin isn't as clear, and I also look a good ten pounds heavier. My weight-loss over the last couple years had been slow. Stress, combined with vampire blood, combined with a loss of Gran's fat-laden cooking had given me a much trimmer body than the one reflected back at me.

On the other hand, there's something almost, soft, about how I look. My tan is in full swing, and I realize that I look very young and very innocent. Lord, if I look young to myself, I can only imagine what the Vampires must have thought...er, think of me. I sweep my hair up, put on a little make-up, and decide to cut down on the pie (just a little bit!). I know one thing for sure, if and when I meet Bill for the first time, I will knock his socks off. It may be vain and immature, but I still want Bill to want me.

Thinking of Bill makes me face the fact that some night soon he's going to come in to the bar, where we will meet, and the Rats will try to drain him. I have already decided that warning Bill won't do any good. Bill has always had a somewhat elitist attitude toward humans (don't they all?), so it looks like I'll have to wait until they are in the act. On the up-side, this will indebt Bill to me. On the down-side, the Rats will try to kill me a few nights later. My mind is flooded with other possibilities: turning them over to the police, telling Bill to meet me earlier the night they attack me so that he's there _before_ they almost beat me to death, or I could make something up to get the Rats out of the bar before Bill even shows up…

The problem with telling the police is that I have no idea what would happen after that. How quickly could the police act? Could I call ahead? Would they believe me? I can't bet Bill's life on an uncertainty. The same thing goes for sending the Rats off. They may not leave, or they may come back another night I'm not working and get Bill then. There are too many variables. I briefly consider if it is worth it to try and think of a way to save the Rats. Maybe I _should_ just have Bill intercept them. One thing I am sure of: I definitely do not want to have to drink Bill's blood.

I wonder how much he used the fact that I'd had his blood to know what I was feeling. I wonder if the blood exchange caused him to start caring for me. I feel so conflicted. I want to know Bill, and for Bill to know me. I want us to care about each other… but I don't want a romantic relationship with him again. It would be too painful; I've let that part of us go. But can we build any kind of relationship without that as a base? Will Bill care about me on his own, without orders, without blood? I'm not even sure I want to know. Eric begins to creep into my thoughts, as he has threatened to since I woke up.

_Any change in your actions will cause changes in what comes next._

I push Eric from my mind.

First things first: I need to deal with Bill, and stop Rene. I need to keep things exactly the same for as long as possible so I can continue to predict what happens. I lay out in the sun and continue to let the possibilities swirl in my brain. I remember the night I met Bill was a Thursday, because it had been busy, but not too busy, and Arleen had changed it to "Must See TV" on the game's commercial breaks. Having looked at my work schedule (which Sam writes a month in advance!), I saw that I work next Thursday, but not the two Thursdays after that. I had been sure I met Bill in early July, but I don't work a Thursday in the first half of July.

What all this comes down to then is that it will happen next week Thursday. Today is Wednesday, so I have a little over a week until my second first meeting with Vampire Bill.

I take a sip of my sweet tea and digest the fact that my calculations had been off. I had hoped to arrive in the past at least two weeks before dealing with Bill, but now realize it's better this way. As the hours pass it seems harder and harder to _not_ think about a plan. The idea of laying out and chatting with Gran for two weeks is all well and good, but my subconscious won't let me forget all that's happened. No, a week is just the right amount of time to get ready.

I flip over; making sure my white and gold bikini keeps what little of me it covers covered, and decide to start on an official plan ASAP.

_Yeah, I'll start soon_ I think, as I tilt my head up to greet the warm rays.

Just ten more minutes in the sun…

* * *

**Ah! Okay, I know nothing actually _happens_ in this chapter, but I figure that Sookie (and myself!) need to gear up for what's to come. Thanks for the reviews, they're really encouraging :) **

**Next chapter I play with POV a bit. It's one of my goals to get all three of Sookie's beau's perspectives into the story at some point. Coming up, Sam.**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

_Sookie POV_

People say they have butterflies in their stomach when they are nervous. It feels more like I have an entire pack of angry werebutterflies rumbling in mine as I pull on my white Merlotte's shirt for work. Tonight's the night. Bill will come in to Merlotte's in less than six hours. I'm getting ready ridiculously early; I don't even have to leave for 45 minutes. After getting dressed, I go to check my make-up, again. It's nothing too over-the-top; just a little mascara, some lip gloss and some bronzer to bring out my tan even more. My hair is in a simple pony-tail, but I've curled the very end of it so it makes a little loop-de-loop. I'm nervous that my plan won't work, but more than anything I'm actually excited to observe Bill as he meets me for the first time.

I close my eyes and remember how I felt that first night. I was so excited to meet a vampire; it seems kind of silly now. In fact, I was so excited to meet a vampire that sometimes I think a vamp-version of Carrot-Top could have walked into the bar that night and I still would have fallen a little bit in love with him. I know without a doubt that I came to love who Bill is, but I honestly don't know what would have happened if I hadn't been so awe-struck, and so amazed and relieved that I couldn't hear him. I wonder if my interpretation of Bill will change with the benefit of 20/20 hind-sight.

Not hearing his thoughts let me trust him too easily; to assume too much. Although I do know now that Bill has honor (of a certain kind), to think of how much I projected my own ideas of who he was on him makes me cringe.

With Eric, it was so different. I didn't trust him from the start, so I didn't even really notice how much I liked him. The real him. The brave, sneaky, sex-crazed Eric. The Eric who made me laugh. And then that got all mixed up with the sweet memory-addled Eric. And now there's this Eric, a total stranger I have yet to meet. Will Eric even think of me as more than a sex toy if we don't end up bonded? How will my plan affect how he feels about me? Will he--

Oh shit! I'm late for work!

I manage a "Be back later!" to Gran as I rush out the door, and go 15 over all the way to Merlotte's. Sam raises his eyebrow at me as I breeze in the door close to ten minutes late. I don't make it a habit of being late, so I mouth an apology at him before taking up a rag and busing two tables and getting three drink orders in. With Dawn still in working order, Merlotte's is a much easier place to work. She flirts with everyone, but has been working here so long that most of the time she helps out without even thinking about it. So, thanks to Dawn, everyone in my section now has drinks, and I can hurry to get their orders in and not loose out on tips for being late.

I focus on my side-work whenever I have a break, and try to keep busy as the werebutterfly war continues in my stomach. In the middle of re-filling the ketchup bottles, Bill comes in and quietly sits down in my section. As I explain how we don't have synthetic blood, I let myself take Bill in. He says only exactly what he needs to; and looks at me with about the same amount of interest he would have for a water ring on the table. Did he know I was me already? Was his cool attitude an attempt to remain under the radar, or was he annoyed at having to scout for a lowly human?

As I go to get his wine, my eye is caught momentarily by my ring, and I go over again what I put in it (or rather, the dimension it connects to):

-Several lengths of thick rope

-A knife

-A pack of True Blood

-A stun-gun (Wal-Mart $49.95)

-Bandages

Hopefully I won't need any of it.

The seconds tick by after I deliver Bill's wine, until finally he gets up with the Rats to move toward the exit. Time to enter stage one. While making my plan I decided to actually take the chastisement I got from Sam after I saved Bill the first time into consideration. The first time around I was so panicked, and had to act so quickly that it didn't occur to me to tell Sam what was happening (not to mention that I thought he was human, and didn't want to endanger him). This time I decided that I would get Sam, and we would stop the Rats together. This brought an air of legitimacy to interrupting the Rats (Sam owned the bar after all, and I knew the Rats respected him about as much as they could anyone), and also meant Bill would owe Sam too, which could only be a good thing.

"Sam!" I yell, practically in his ear since I didn't realize he had walked behind me. I continue more quietly: "The Rats have taken that vamp in the corner booth outside to the parking lot to drain him!" Sam's eyes widened. "What? Sookie, how do you know-- " I interrupt him: "There's no time! C'mon!" With that I race out toward the parking lot, hoping whatever affection Sam has for me at this point is enough to make him follow.

I look back and don't see Sam behind me. Crap. I was hoping that I wouldn't need to face them on my own. I whisper "Aperio stun-gun" at my ring and suddenly it's in my hand, ready to be pointed at the Rats as I round the pickup to face them.

Just as I yell "Back off!" I hear "Hold it right there" to my left. I turn to see Sam pointing a baseball bat at the Rats in a very similar fashion to me and my stun-gun. Both the Rats, who had their backs turned in our direction, were kneeling over Bill. At our shouting they both turn, looking shocked. Whereas before they'd gotten several bags of blood, they appear to only have just started; one IV in each of Bill's arms was connected to a half-full bag of blood. The same silver chain is pinning him in place, burning his cool flesh. A growl almost escapes me at the sight of it.

I prepare myself to fight, but it seems that when the Rats are going up against equal numbers, and a respected member of the community (not just Crazy Sookie all on her lonesome), they act like the cowards they are. Mack looks quickly from Bill to Sam's baseball bat and tries to talk his way out of his very precarious situation.

"It's not what it looks like Sam, the Vamp attacked us, and we was just, makin' the best of it…"

Sam keeps the bat pointed at him and replies: "I don't care what lies you wanna spin here Mack. You're attacking one of my patrons, on my property; and since you've got some of that blood in little viles, you are also in possession of a class A substance."

I'm grinning from ear to ear, which makes Denise spitting mad, and she's stupid enough to yell at me "You crazy bitch! I am gonna kill you!"

Sam takes a step toward her as he says: "And now you've threatened my employee. I suggest you get out of here _right now_; I'll wait til morning to file the police report. If you're lucky, you can make it across state lines by then. If you ever step foot near my bar, or my workers, you'll wish like hell all I did was hand you over to the cops."

Mack starts to un-hook the IV's and pick up the blood, and I turn my stun-gun on him. "You leave that right where it is Mack!" He drops the bag and the Rats live up to their name as they hiss and bare their teeth at me, but quickly start to edge toward their car. Sam's eyes follow them all the way there, and out toward the road as they drive away.

The second their tail-lights are gone I'm at Bill's side, removing the silver and un-hooking the IVs. Sam helps me remove the tourniquets and offers to help Bill through the back door into his office. I can tell that he wants to get me away from Bill, so I offer to go get the first aid kit, mentioning that dragging a wounded vampire into the bar is probably not the best idea.

When I get back with the kit, Sam introduces me to Bill (who nods) and Sam tells me I should "probably go back inside." My first instinct is to tell him to shove it, but instead I plaster on a smile and say "Sure thing, I just wanted to give you the kit, and also give Bill this." In my outstretched hand I have the True Blood from my ring. Sam looks surprised, Bill looks thirsty.

I say: "Some of the guys inside bought it as a joke, and were about to throw it out, so I asked if I could have it." If Sam knew I was lying, he didn't show it. I twist off the cap of one and give it to Bill, who has yet to speak to me at all.

"I'm Sookie Stackhouse by the way. It's nice to meet you." Despite Bill's concerted effort to avoid speaking to me, I was going to keep my manners. I wonder if Sam said something to him while I was inside.

"The pleasure is mine, Sookie. Thank you for the blood, and for… saving me." The last part is strained, but sincere.

"No problem!" I return with a smile. I bend down to pick up the silver chain, and think to ask before sticking it in my pocket: "Do you mind if I keep the chain?" Bill raises his eyebrows and replies: "Take whatever you wish. You may have the blood as well; it is very valuable."

I'm just as repulsed now as I was when he offered I take the blood the first go around. "No thanks, it doesn't have any value to me." I turn to Sam and say "I'm gonna go close out my tables and head home, kay?"

Sam, who had been watching my entire "first" interaction with a vampire with bemusement, simply nods. With a rush of affection I walk up to him and give him a quick hug. "Thanks for your help Sam."

I can feel the eyes of the shifter and the vampire follow me all the way back to the door.

"Now the ball's in Bill's court," I think as I crawl into bed later. When I got home I told Gran about "the vampire" much as I had before, though with a bit less excitement and a bit more discretion. I still think having Bill speak for the Decedents of the Glorious Dead is a good idea. It made Gran so happy, and it made people more open to Bill. Hopefully the next time Bill comes around I can mention it to him.

I snuggle into the blankets, content with the way things have gone, and looking forward to tomorrow.

* * *

_Sam's POV_

I'm worried there's something wrong when Sookie shows up late for her shift. I can count the number of times she's been late on one hand the entire time she's worked for me. One of which was when she was late because a hornet's nest fell on her car, and even then she was only late by five minutes. I tried to send her home, but she insisted that the stings were no big deal. I didn't have the heart to tell her that the sting on her forehead probably wasn't the most conducive thing in the world for getting people to order food.

It did make them drink more though.

She mouths an apology at me and gets to work, so I guess everything is okay. I keep an eye on her the rest of her shift; she's tense, but handles even the difficult customers without any problems [the Rattray's are in again… I really wish I could find an excuse to ban them]. Just when things seem to level out a vampire comes in and sits in her section. I expect Sookie to turn into a spaz and start doing her nervous tongue-click, but she just calmly takes his order. Huh, what with the way she craned her neck for six months every time a customer came in the door at night after the big reveal, I figured her for a bigger reaction. Maybe she didn't recognize him for what he was?

I go in the back to get another case of beer, and when it's unloaded I glance at Sookie to see that she's frozen in place, staring at the door. I walk up behind her to see what's up, and she practically blows out my ear-drum. She explains that the vampire is in trouble with the Rats (I wonder if she can hear vamps. I hope not) and the next thing I know she's run out the door.

"Damn it Sookie!" I swear and race back to my office to get my baseball bat. I should call the police, but I can't leave Sookie out there with two homicidal lunatics and an injured vampire. It's times like these that I just wish shifters were out in the open like vampires. My body is screaming at me to turn into anything with sharp teeth and claws and rip whoever might hurt Sookie to shreds.

I get there the second Sookie starts yelling at them, aiming a stun-gun. _A stun-gun_? I have to get this under control before the Rat's feel too cornered and attack. After reeling off some BS about the police and threatening their insignificant rat-like existences, they back away and drive off. I'll have to let Andy know in the morning. He's gonna rip me a new one for not calling it in right away, but he'll understand about not making a scene when a vampire is involved.

Back to the vampire in question, I go over and help Sookie put him right. I want her out of here. The Rat's didn't take as much blood as they could have, but a hurt, silver-weakened vampire is not something you want to mess with. He can probably tell I'm a were. Good, it will keep him from doing anything stupid. Relief washes over me as Sookie offers to go in and get the first aid kit. While she is gone the vampire is mostly silent. I help him to his feet and he introduces himself.

"I am Bill Compton. I am in your debt."

Great, a vampire in my debt. I don't want anything to do with vampires or the supe community. That's why I came to Bon Temps in the first place, to get away from all this crap. Etiquette requires that I respond however.

"The safety of my customers, and my _employees_ is very important to me. Any debt you have to me can be repaid by your assurance that no harm will come to them by you and yours."

The vampire, Bill, nods slowly in understanding. He'd better not harm her in any way.

Sookie gets back with the kit and I try and get her back in the bar, but she insists on giving the vampire synthetic blood which she seems to have magic'd out of nowhere. She's been full of surprises tonight; I still want to ask her about the stun-gun. Does she not feel safe at night? I always used to offer to walk her to her car, but she'd only refuse. She can be so stubborn. Thank God she yelled for me tonight; it would be just like her to charge after the Rat's all on her own.

She turns to head back inside and surprises me by turning around to give me a hug. I bend my head a little to smell her hair. She always smells so damn good. She tells me "Thanks for your help Sam," and walks back to the bar.

I want to say something. I want to tell her that I will always be here to help her. I will always keep her safe, no matter what.

But I don't. I don't say anything; and I'm left alone under the flickering streetlamps of my parking lot, save for the company of a half-drained vampire.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

_Sookie POV_

I wake up to the smell of corned beef hash, and after the first glorious whiff I can't help but think "Good lord, did Gran really fry up some form of fatty meat _every_ morning for breakfast?" I get dressed and go downstairs; today I'm reorganizing the linen closet. In my quest to help Gran more, I've tried to work on at least one thing a day that "she's always been meaning to do." So far I'd re-painted the banister, fixed the drip in the kitchen sink faucet, re-strung the clothes lines and filled in most of the pot-holes in the driveway (it still needs a more permanent fix, but at least it's something). At first Gran scolded me for doing too much, but when she saw the results she settled for trying to stuff me more full of food.

Even those attempts were failing however, since I was trying to get back to my "fighting weight," literally. I grab an apple on my way out the door and kiss Gran on the cheek. "I'm going out to get a couple storage bins, you need anything?" She titters back "Only whatever it is you've been taking that's giving you so much energy!"

As I walk out to the car I see Jason's truck pulling in. That's right; he comes over to chastise me about the Rattray's. He slams his car door and before I can say "pecan pie" he's laying into me for fighting and driving the Rats out of town. Apparently their trailer was packed up and their car is gone. Good, I think, though it remains to be seen if they actually left on their own, or if a "tornado" hits them on the road to help them on their way out of town. I interrupt Jason, tell him briefly what really happened, and allow him all of two seconds to digest it before hoping into the car and heading into town.

After I get back and triumph over the disorganization that was the linen closet, I sit down to lunch with Gran and Jason. Right in the middle of taking a bite of my green beans, Jason says something that truly shocks me. It shocks me, even though it's no surprise.

"Hey, did you hear someone killed Maudette Pickens last night?"

I blanch. I totally forgot that Maudette had been found the night I met Bill. I've been so focused on my plan for Bill that I haven't even considered Rene's first local victim. I let Gran pump Jason for the information I already know: Maudette was a fang-banger. She had bite marks on her inner thighs, but had been killed by strangulation. No suspects, except the lone fanged resident of Bon Temps: Bill.

I excuse myself and go to my room. How could I be so thoughtless? I had only thought of Gran and Bill, everyone else… well, as horrible as it sounds, it sort of felt like they were already gone. I cry angry, guilty tears for a few minutes before pulling myself together. I would save Dawn; I could still save Dawn. But even as I think about Dawn I remember that soon Bill will play host to Diane and her nest-mates, and the biological warfare in Jerry's blood.

I sit down at my desk and focus on phase two of my plan. In the coming week I would have to prevent Bill from getting infected by Jerry, stop Rene from killing Dawn, and clean out the boxes in the attic. Despite the danger and drama of the two former goals, I was really dreading facing the latter. Dust bunnies and spiders just gross me out.

Bill comes in to Merlotte's a few nights later, and I recognized that in Timeline A, I asked him to meet me when I got off work. Here in Timeline B that still seems like a good idea. "Hey, what can I get you?" I ask. He gets red wine again since we still don't have synthetic. His manner is much the same. Cool, aloof; though I'd like to think he now pays me as much mind as the ketchup bottle. Hey, that's progress right? At least ketchup's red. I mentally roll my eyes.

Why did I find this so appealing? I suppose there were his manners; Gran did always raise me to like a man with manners.

I shake myself out of my reverie to say: "Oh hey, I have something to ask you. Could you maybe stop by after I get off work?" Bill calmly agrees and I go to get his wine.

I tell him to meet me at the exact time I get off, knowing full well that I won't be done until a little after. Better safe than sorry. This way if the Rattray's _are_ still in town, Bill can stop them right away. If they're not, well, Bill has been alive for over a century, he can stand to wait fifteen minutes.

He is waiting in the parking lot as I take out the trash for the night. "Oh, hey! I am almost done, sorry to keep you waiting." He nods and his nostrils flair. I can't tell if he's mad, or if he doesn't like the smell of the garbage… or both. Bill has always been weird about smells. It takes me five more minutes to finish up, and I head out to meet him. I half expect to get punched in the jaw again, but the only people in sight are Bill, and Sam as a dog in the bushes. I almost call out to Sam, but check myself. I wonder how much he watched me in dog-form without me noticing.

Without much to-do I ask Bill about speaking for Gran's club. Happily it seemed to go as it had before, with him asking if it would make me happy before he agreed. We set up for him to come to my house next week to meet Gran, and set things up officially with The Descendants. As I bid him goodnight I realize that in Timeline A he knew I was a telepath by now. I have to remind myself soberly that he knows here in Timeline B as well, I just haven't confirmed it. I shake my head as I start home. It's so easy for me to forget why Bill is _really_ here, and that as things stand now, I am still just part of his mission for the queen.

Well, if I stick to my plan, that shouldn't matter in the very near future, and Bill and I can be friends without secrets.

* * *

Over the next few days I work more on my plan, and soon Bill is in my house meeting Gran and Jason. Bill is once again the consummate gentleman, and offers to take me on a walk as he did before. I hope I can get this right. Everything hinges on things staying the same for just a little while longer.

Conversation lags as we walk and I try to remember what I asked him before. I realize that apart from questions about being a vampire, I had mostly talked about myself. How it had been hard to have my "gift" at a young age, my parent's death. Things I never talked about with anyone. I close my eyes at how naïve and open I had been.

We _do_ manage to get on the subject of how small my dress is, and I have to laugh. Not only because Bill can be such an old fashioned worry-wort, but because he has been so intimate with every part of me (though he doesn't know it), but can cringe because I show too much leg. We start to talk about his life, and his wife, but I remember where that took us last time, so I steer the conversation back to his house. After he accepts my offer to help him with the electricians, he turns to me suddenly and says: "What is it about you Sookie? You're different."

"I'm not so different." I hedge. I might as well have LIAR painted on my forehead.

He presses on: "No Sookie, I… there's something about you. What are you?"

I'd wondered when he would try and turn the subject to my telepathy. I had almost hoped that he wouldn't, that I could pretend for just a little while longer that he and I were just chatting. I smile as naturally as I can and reply "I'm a waitress."

Before he can question me further I turn in the direction of my house and call out as I walk away: "Goodnight! I'll bring by the info I get from the electricians tomorrow night."

* * *

_Bill POV_

She walks away from me and I let my mind consider these recent developments.

Sookie is not what I expected. Sookie. When had she become Sookie instead of "the human"? Based on what little the queen told me, and the cousin's description, I pretty much prepared myself to woo some kind of mentally challenged country bumpkin. This assessment had not seemed unreasonable as she filled my order: her tight smile and overly-eager demeanor were immediately undesirable. I'd hoped to move to Bon Temps and find some piece. Instead I was charged with starting a relationship with a human bar maid.

As though that were not enough, staying in my old family home has produced a strange melancholy within me; memories lost and never-made intermingle for me there, my lost home.

On the whole it is not the homecoming I had hoped for.

Things continued to go downhill when I was foolish enough to walk into the trap of the drainers. I had felt so suffocated by my situation in the bar that I knew I had to get out of there and feed. I am not yet a particularly mature vampire, and as such when two able-bodied humans offer themselves to me when I am already under stress… well, it was obviously not the best judgment.

Then she and the shifter came to my aid. Perhaps it was the blood loss, but suddenly she seemed much more competent. She was even able to procure some synthetic blood for me. I reevaluated my estimation of her then, not only because she had come to my aid: a stranger. A vampire. But also because the shifter seemed to feel such devotion for her. I could sense that the shifter was indeed a true shifter, and powerful. For her to have such value to him, she must be a woman of some talent, character or ability.

I have seen no indication of her alleged telepathic abilities. There is a strangeness about her; her scent in particular is very unique. If my mouth could still water it would do so when I think of her. And, she is of course, beautiful. Tan and young and fond of short dresses. I remember her laugh when I asked her if she owned a petticoat. Though I was at first reticent to seduce her, I find myself wanting to touch her whenever I am close to her. She seems to have some sense of this, and is always careful to keep an arms-length away.

What I do not understand is why. She is a red-blooded young woman with desires like any other. It is not as it once was. Young women in general need little encouragement to fall into bed these days. I know I am considered to be handsome… I honestly didn't think I would really have to try to seduce her. My desire for her has increased steadily, a deep disinterest now a white-hot flame.

Perhaps I am just feeling the thrill of a challenge.

I have avoided it until now, but soon I will have to resort to glammoring her. Something tugs in me at this thought. I do not want to glammor her. I want her to come to me on her own. I want her to be mine. My feet have taken me through the graveyard back to the Compton house.

What is it about Sookie? She is unafraid of me, but not in the way that the pathetic fang-bangers who throw themselves at our kind are. She is unafraid not because of desire or sycophancy, but because she is merely herself. She treats me with consideration; she treats me as a man first and a vampire second.

I know I can never _be_ a vampire second, but it is a remarkable feeling to know that someone else could think it so.

Sookie.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

_Sookie POV_

The next night after working all day on the Dawn situation, I swing by Bill's with my information. I walk right past Diane's ugly Lincoln Continental, and knock confidently on the door. "Hey little human chick" Diane greets me less than a second later. I remember feeling scarred and unsure in Timeline A, but refuse to feel so again. I put on my smile and say: "Hello, I have some information I need to drop off for Bill. Is he in?"

Much as before, Diane taunts, Malcolm makes out with Jerry, and tattoo-covered Liam performs sexual acts with a dazed-looking Janella. I'm not shocked this time around, but I am still disgusted. As Bill proclaims that "I am his," I calmly set my information down on the end table.

Things happen quickly then, and as Jerry makes his move to offer himself to Bill; here we go:

"Heeeey," I say to Jerry in as friendly a voice I can, "Don't I know you?" Jerry and the vampires turn to me with blank expressions. "Oh, yeah," I continue, "I remember you now! You gave that _really_ moving speech about how you wouldn't give up after you were diagnosed with AIDS at the community center last year! That was really inspiring." I had decided this was the easiest way to out Jerry's sino-AIDS infection plan without outing myself as a telepath.

All the vampires, including Bill turn toward Jerry, hissing, fangs extended. "No, no you got me wrong!" he yells. It was true, I had made up that he gave a speech, but a quick look into his mind gives me all the information I need. "No, I'm pretty sure it was you. You're Jerry Castaneda, from Long Beach, right?" I know I'm dooming Jerry once again, but then, I remind myself that he killed his lover, and infected countless vampires. These three may not be worth their weight in dirt, but there's the fact that Jerry would have gone on to infect other vampires, starting with Bill.

The vamps do their thing with Jerry, and I make myself watch as they drag his unconscious body out the door.

After Bill bids the nest-mates goodbye, he turns to me with a considering look. I remember at this point before I was on the verge of tears, hurt and upset that the vampires had been so _horrible_. Feigning shock at their brutality toward Jerry, I ask Bill if all vampires are like that. As Bill explains (again) the difference between nesting vamps and mainstreaming vamps, I tune him out and do some thinking.

I've changed so much since experiencing this the first time. Whereas before I was horrified, now I see that there was really only one way for Jerry to end up. Even Diane didn't seem as heinous; she was almost funny in her over-the-top aggression and confidence. What does this say about me? Am I loosing my humanity, or have I just opened my eyes?

At least I still think Liam is a vulgar waste of space; and tattoo ink.

Bill stops speaking and starts shifting closer to me. Thus far I've been careful to keep a good distance from him. I don't want to give him any ideas about my interest, but mostly I don't want him to entertain thoughts of seducing me at all. He reaches his hand out to touch my cheek. I suppose the gesture is meant to comfort me. As soon as he starts to lean in though, I pull away.

"Um, okay, well that information is on the side table." I take a step back toward the door.

Bill looks frustrated for about half a second before his face becomes a blank mask and he stairs intently at me. It takes everything I have not to yell at him: "Oh no, Bill Compton! You did NOT just try to glammor me!" Instead I settle for a wain smile and look at my watch. "Oh wow, it's getting late. I'd better get home to Gran."

I almost laugh. Bill's usually-stoic face now resembles a gaping fish; and in what seems to be a recurring pattern, I walk away from Bill as he stairs after me.

* * *

The phone rings at six am the next morning and I quickly pick it up. I knew this was coming, I just hope it all went to plan.

"Sookie, it's Sam. Sorry to call you at such an early hour, but I've got some bad news."

My stomach turns. Dawn. I did what I could to save her I tell myself. I did what I could… and it didn't work. Oh God. I thought it was for the best, maybe I should have--

Sam continues, taking my silence in stride: "An attempt was made on Dawn's life last night."

I latch on to his words like a life-line: "Wait, an _attempt_? Is she okay? What happened?!"

"She's alright Cher, just a little shaken up." Oh thank you Jesus.

Now it's his turn to pause.

"What Sam? What else?" _Please. Please. Please_.

"The attacker… the attacker was Rene, Sookie. The police have him in custody." He blows out a long breath. "Lord I didn't want to tell you this over the phone, but I gotta stay here all day. Dawn's not comin' in, and Arlene is a right mess…"

"Do you need me to come in?" I ask. The damn attic can wait.

"If you feel up to it. I know you really liked Rene." I can tell from his voice that he's conflicted.

"It's okay Sam; I can be in whenever you need me." Sam has sure been there when I've needed _him_, I think silently to myself.

"You are saving my ass here Sookie; people are going to be swarming the place by lunchtime."

"I'll be in by ten."

After I hang up with Sam I lay there and let myself breath. I knew there was a chance it wouldn't work, but it did. Dawn is safe. Gran is safe.

The day before I had set about two tasks: Warning Dawn, and tipping off the police.

Dawn was easy enough. Even though nobody talks about it, everyone at Merlotte's understands about my ability (in varying degrees). Working closely with people for years with sometimes less-than-stellar mental shields, things slip, people notice, and eventually they accept it. Telling Dawn as she got off work that I thought I "heard" some guy in the bar "saying" some scary stuff about finding her later at her home was a bit awkward, but she got my message loud and clear. I recommended she really be on the alert that night, and gave her my stun-gun. Dawn told me she keeps a colt 45 in the house for just such occasions, but promised to keep the stun-gun close by just in case. I respected how she took my warning, and felt a little guilty for writing her off before as just some floozy Jason messed around with.

After speaking with Dawn I drove a few towns over to get the evidence I needed to implicate Rene in his sister's murder. I packaged that with a detailed account of his responsibility in Maudette's death, and the "tip" that he would go after Dawn that night. A quick stop at the police station, and an anonymous call that important information on the murder of Maudette Pickens was sitting on their doorstep, and my foray into police-work was over.

I drove by Dawn's before heading to Bill's and saw a couple of inconspicuous cars parked about a block down from her house. I kept my eyes straight ahead, but could just make out Andy Bellafleur's profile through the tinted glass of the old green Chevy. Confident that I had done what I could, I made my way back home to prevent Bill's infection.

Disease-free Bill. Check.

Dawn safe, Rene in jail. Check.

Boxes in the attic.

I shake my head as I get ready for work. Two out of three isn't bad.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

_Sookie POV_

I help Sam out until about eight, and head home to get ready. Phase three is going to be the most difficult one so far. There are lots of reasons for this, but my brain can only really articulate the main two (which are basically responsible for every other issue):

1) I am now actively going to be changing things, meaning I won't be able to count on my knowledge of the "future" anymore.

2) I'm going to see Eric.

Yep, I feel like I'm jumping from the kiddie pool into the ocean. More like into a Tsunami (I've been reading a book about Tsunami survivors in my spare time. Somehow I don't think there are any tips in it for me). In TimelineA, the night after I found Dawn, Bill took me to Fangtasia to investigate. I would be keeping that appointment tonight, sans Bill. This time I will be going to Fangtasia on my own. I know don't _have _to go tonight. I could put off going to Fangtasia and my plan would probably still work… but tonight is the best night to go if I want to be sure.

I smile at the memory of being nervous about going to Fangtasia alone before; feeling like I needed Bill there to help me. I'm still not thrilled at the idea, but knowing more about Eric, I know nothing will happen to me that I don't want to happen; it would be too much trouble. Eric is extremely invested in mainstreaming his business and keeping his profit margins up. It's funny, but the people in Fangtasia are probably safer than people walking the streets. Fangtasia is all about offering up death and danger, but when it comes down to it, it's a business. A tourist trap.

Granted, a tourist trap filled with fangs, but even the Grand Canyon has claimed some lives.

I set about "packing" my ring. I leave everything that was in it before, and add:

-The chain that bound Bill

-A spray bottle filled with a mixture of water and colloidal silver

-A stake

-Pens and Paper

-My copies of the paperwork, plus an extra set

-A cheep cell phone I got last week

-Money and an emergency credit card

I'm sure things won't get out of hand tonight, but having an anti-vamp arsonal in my ring can't hurt. The phone, money and notepaper just seem like good things to have. Nose-wipe seemed to think a whole house could fit in the ring, so I pretty much plan on sticking anything in there I think can be useful. I consider putting my lipstick in there, but I doubt the ring was meant to take the place of my battered purse. Speaking of, I transfer my more purse-friendly items from my old straw purse into my new black one. During my week of planning I'd gone out and bought an outfit specifically for tonight, complete with shoes, purse and necklace. I didn't even have to feel too guilty about the purchases since the dress was on clearance and the purse will also work as an every-day bag; it was stylish, but not overly structured or designed.

When I was putting together my look, I wanted to strike just the right contrast of sex and professionalism. Some people might think those two things can't be put together, but I think I balanced things just right. I considered wearing the same thing I wore in Timeline A, but in the end I knew it just wouldn't be right. I need to change how the vampires see me, and a virginal white linen dress with flowers was not the way to do it. I finish loading the purse and turn to my dress.

The mall in Shreveport had exactly what I wanted. The dress is a deep red, so deep it almost looks black in dim light. I don't want to look like some hussy, so it actually has a pretty high neck line, with a little faux-cape that creates cap sleeves. I basically have to pour myself into the thing, but aside from being tight (and looking like the color of super-concentrated blood) it's pretty demure, falling just above the knee.

My necklace is more utilitarian than the rest of my outfit. It's a tiny silver chain which I tuck under the neckline of my dress. It is so small and so thin that it doesn't disturb the fabric at all. Basically it's a last-ditch repellent to any vampire that may want to get too close. It's such a small amount of silver that I doubt a vamp would even notice it unless they got up close and personal.

I put on a little more eye make-up than I usually do to match the tone of the dress and I'm ready. I wiggle into my flip-flops and bring my black heels with me. They aren't that high, but after spending all day on my feet hawking food to gossip-crazed customers; I'll take any little bit of comfort I can get.

Gran is out at a Descendants meeting, so I leave her a note that I've gone out and not to wait up.

If I thought I was nervous to meet Bill, seeing Eric is pushing my stress-meter off the charts. I'm pretty sure I check my reflection in the rear-view mirror about twenty times during the hour-long drive. Crazy thoughts run through my head, like asking Bill to give me some of his blood to make my hair more bouncy.

I mentally slap myself. I cannot be this worked up when I get there! I roll down the windows, take some deep breaths and try to let my mind wander.

It wanders to tsunamis.

* * *

I don't know why I expect Fangtasia to have changed. It looks exactly like it did the last time I was here, and the time before that, and the time before that. I get in without any trouble and decide to head to the bar to get a drink. Longshadow is there in all his glory, and asks me: "What can I get you beautiful?" I almost want to sass him; say something like "An explanation for why you think it's okay to embezzle from your business partners," but I go with "Gin and tonic, please."

He flashes a harsh fanged smile that I know is meant to both frighten and intrigue me. I wonder if he does it naturally, or if it's part of his vampire shtick for the bar. I can't bring myself to approach Eric's thrown just yet, or even look at it. If I didn't know better I would swear the bond is still intact. I feel like I can sense him. Maybe I'm just imagining it; or maybe a blood bond can linger somehow? I don't really see how, neither my body or his in this reality has _had _the other's blood. Sometimes I really just want a reference book for all this supernatural stuff; maybe I could start one:

**Blood bond1 **/bluhd bɒnd/

**_–noun_**.

1. something that binds a human and vampire together after 3+ blood exchanges. 2. often used as a means for control, resulting in confused feelings, mixed emotions and a general state of uncertainty. 3. may or may not survive in some form through time travel_._

I quietly sip my drink and look around. All anyone is thinking about is sex, often staring the vampire I'm trying to ignore for the moment. The undercover cop isn't here yet. I finish my drink and start making centrifugal rings on my napkin with my glass.

I scan again a few minutes later and it's still just sex. I sigh and I know I need to get a move on. An old Smashing Pumpkins song comes on; something about the world being a vampire. It makes me smile. I'll say one thing about vampires, they generally have a sense of flair about them. Suddenly instead of wanting to stall, I feel like I'm totally ready. Maybe my liquid courage has kicked in, or maybe I'm getting so anxious to see Eric that it's overpowering my desire to _not _see him. Either way I thank Longshadow and move away from the bar.

I look up and Eric is staring right at me. Oh god. I forgot he wore just a vest. No shirt. I can see his whole chest.

Oh lord, I just saw nipple!

_Crap, Sookie, get it together…_

* * *

_Eric POV_

I've watched her since the moment she came in, and thank god she did. Pam has been insufferably boring tonight. I believe she is trying to punish me for not letting her put in a multi-tiered synthetic-blood fountain. Honestly, I know we are trying to appeal to the lowest common denominator here, but there _are_ limits to bad taste. There were little _angels _on it. Little cherubs with flutes and bits of fabric covering their nethers. I suppress a shudder. I am not a taste nazi. I like a good slogan t-shirt and huge belt buckles, but I know when to draw the line: I still sometimes have to resist rolling my eyes at the name "Fangtasia." Yes, it is marketing gold, but it is also one of the worst puns I have ever heard.

And I have heard a lot of puns.

There is ironic, and then there is moronic. Speaking of, I'm going to have to talk to Marco about wearing that damn red pleather jumpsuit in the bar. I hired him on as one of my auxiliary vampires a few weeks ago, but he's been more trouble than he's worth. Not only has he not adhered to dress code (red pleather jumpsuit anyone?!), but he's been drinking from clients like they are Coca-Colas on a hot day. I'll have Pam talk to him later.

Speaking of hot, I turn my attention back to the blond.

I take my time considering her (Pam is certainly not going to entertain me. She is now looking off into the distance; probably dreaming of some sort of blood equivalent to the chocolate river in that Oompa Loompa movie she likes to watch). The woman seems familiar and totally novel all at once; I wait for her to look at me. She doesn't. I call out to her silently, she doesn't respond. Any other human in the room would be licking my boots by now. Is she human? She looks it.

She is wearing something entirely too classy for the venue (though I am loath to admit it). Her hair is twisted elegantly, and falls over her shoulder on one side.

She doesn't look entirely comfortable in the dress however; like she's dressed up in the clothes of another woman who happens to be her size. Judging from her tan I would guess that she is more comfortable in a cotton dress and flip-flops. My fangs extend a bit. Yes, that would be lovely. The dress _does_ hug all the right places; too high a neck-line though…

Yes, finally she makes eye-contact. Come here, yes. What? Mid-glammor she swerves away from me and enters the restroom. I resist the urge to charge toward the bathroom and rip the door off its hinges. What is this woman doing to me? How did she counter-act my glammor?

Pam says something about snacking on some whore at our feet; I wave her off. The last thing I have on my mind is biting some two-bit fang-banger. I continue to watch the door she just walked through. She'll have to come out of the restroom sometime, and I am a patient man. I can wait.

Also, if it's more than five minutes, I can send Pam in to get her.

* * *

**I have a link to how I picture the dress if anyone cares, but the formatting won't let me copy and paste it in :(**

**I've put it up below with spaces and (dot) for "." Hope it can work! I tried putting it in but just breaking it up, but it always erases part of it.**

h t t p://1(dot)bp(dot)blogspot(dot)com/_h4mOtJEDlTk/R0C8cz_P5XI/AAAAAAAABAw/GX2g50LG9K0/s400/posh%2Bdress%2B60%2Beuro% Boli. . jpg

**Also, I want to give a shout out to whoever first wrote the idea to use a spray bottle filled with water and colloidal silver as a defense against vampires in a story! All through Dead and Gone I was sure Sookie had spray guns with water and powdered iron... I guess I read it so fast I missed the part about lemon juice!**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

_Sookie POV_

I make my way toward him and suddenly my gin and tonic has gone straight to my bladder. I have more than enough to deal with without the prospect of peeing my pants, so I make a detour to the bathroom. After I finish my business and give myself one last pep-talk, I head toward the exit to finally face Eric. On my way out I practically run in to Pam. She stands there and stares at me for much longer than her vampire senses should need to, and eventually lets me pass.

I'm glad Pam has gone into the bathroom (why a vampire would need to go into the bathroom is beyond me… maybe she checks the plumbing?); the last thing I need while talking to Eric is an audience. I walk up to the edge of his platform, stand in front of him, and in what I hope is a professional and friendly voice say: "Good evening, I'm Sookie Stackhouse." I nod my head a bit, and Eric sits up straighter in his seat.

As if only just realizing he's moved, he slouches back down into an easy "I don't give a fuck" pose. "_Good_ _evening_ Sookie, I am Eric." His tone makes me feel like he's mocking me, but I can see a slight smile in his eyes. After very deliberately looking me up and down he continues: "Would you like to take a seat?" As he says it he doesn't motion to Pam's vacant chair next to him, but to his lap.

I feel the smile creeping onto my lips and quickly turn away, walking a few steps to a nearby seating area to grab one of the small chairs at the nearest table. I take the chair and set it on his left-hand side. I place it about a foot and a half from him, so even when I sit angled toward him, there's about five inches between my legs and his casually resting thigh. "Thank you." I say after I get settled. I try to sound, I don't know – _not_ like I'm totally charmed by him—I think I'm failing though, because I'm now sporting a full-on smile.

Eric seems to be fighting a smile of his own, and looks away. He survey's the crowd for almost a minute, and I do the same. The undercover cop just got here, but he thinks to himself that he'll have to "hang around these sick freaks" for almost two hours before a team can even show up. Good, things are right on time. I glance over at Eric to see that he is still looking away from me. My fragile ego begins to hurt, until I realize that he probably wants me to take up his offer about his lap (or, at least be the one to start the conversation).

I don't suppose Eric is used to working to get anyone's attention.

I consider letting him squirm, but knowing him he would probably just ignore me for eternity, finally saying "nice to meet you" when my bones have turned half to dust. I'm not sure what to say. I don't want to just jump in to the deep end here. I still have a little time to kill, so I decide to ask Eric a question that I have a genuine interest in.

"So, do you enjoy owning this place?"

He turns his head forty-five degrees so that he's looking over my shoulder. I wonder if this is some kind of weird interrogation technique he learned somewhere along the way. I seem to remember reading somewhere that you can intimidate people by not meeting their eye-line. Whatever it is, it's working. I'm getting antsy; I want him to make eye-contact.

"Why do you assume I own the bar?" His voice is sexy, and playful and a little dangerous.

I think fast, was fact that Eric is the primary owner of Fangtasia well known? I have no Bill with me this time who could have told me that. Surely it's common knowledge? I can't get caught up in logistics of my knowledge of the bar. I shrug, and a retort pops out of my mouth totally naturally: "Well, seeing as you're the only vampire here sitting in the middle of the room, ordering people around, on a _throne_, I guess I just assumed." I'm careful to keep my voice warm and conversational, with the tiniest bit of sarcasm.

My heart swells as he laughs his loud, genuine laugh. I'm relieved. It wouldn't do to upset him before we even start negotiating, but I don't want him to think I'm some kind of push-over fang-banger either. Several people turn to oogle him. I wonder how many times he's actually laughed within Fangtasia's walls. I catch Pam watching us with intense interest from the bar. Her eyes are positively glittering.

I've missed Pam and her sweater-sets. I hope we get a chance to talk soon.

Eric doesn't pay attention to the change in the room, and leans toward me, our faces now only a hands-length apart. I can't tell if he's trying to glammor me, or if he's just looking at me really intently. "I _am_ the majority owner, but I think you have overlooked the obvious possibility that the owners simply recognized my natural magnificence, and placed me where I could be admired most."

I laugh but keep my mouth closed, doing my best to keep a straight face. I unconsciously lean forward a little, and my brain screams: _warning!_ Eric begins to lean in too, and our faces start getting dangerously close to occupying the same air-space.

"So Sookie," he intones, "what brings you here tonight?"

He's about to kiss me, and I so badly want to let him, but I need to get back to my plan more. I swerve to the right and lean toward his ear and quietly say: "Actually, I came here with a business proposition. Could we relocate to someplace more private?" God, his hair is so soft.

We both pull back and I see his eyes flash.

"Certainly."

He extends his hand and helps me to my feet. I look at our hands clasped together, and all I can seem to think is: "Eric's holding hands with me." Uhg, maybe this was a bad idea. I severely underestimated how much I would want him. Not sex really (_okay_, well, not _just_ sex), but just, being around him. I know the bond is gone, but I'll be damned if I don't feel practically the same way about him.

What exactly_ that way_ is I have never let myself examine too closely.

He doesn't let go of my hand as we start walking, so I disengage my hand from his, and he out-stripes me by a few paces as he leads the way back toward his office. He doesn't wait for me to enter, but walks in and holds the door open. As soon as I'm in he shuts the door and locks it, turning back to me.

Oh crap. Did I just horribly misread this situation? Locking the door can mean only two things: He's going to try to have sex with me, or he's picked up on something off about me and is going drain me dry.

Or maybe both.

Before I can think of anything to say, he's grabbed me and has me pinned against the door I just walked through.

Things are definitely not going according to plan.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

_Sookie POV_

I stare up at Eric in a kind of paralyzed fascination. His fangs are all the way down, and he looks _hungry_.

The answer to "Hungry for _what_?" is answered quickly as he takes ahold of the bottom of my dress and rips it up the side to my mid-thigh. That done, he grabs the backs of my thighs and hoists me up so that I'm straddling him.

He starts grinding himself against me, against the door in an urgent, jerky rhythm. I'm vaguely aware that I should be pissed about my dress, but the only thoughts I can seem to keep in my head are: "Eric pressing… hot… sex… oh God… please…"

I manage to push out a low "Nooooo," but he ignores it, too focused on my body screaming "yes!" Luckily (or unluckily, depending on your perspective), my little insurance plan kicks in as he goes to bite down on my neck. At first I don't think the silver necklace is even going to slow him down. The very tips of his fangs sink in at my neckline and I gasp. He doesn't insert them any more. I'm so worked up now that a little mew of disappointment escapes me when he pulls back.

He looks confused and pulls the neck of my dress away to reveal the tiny chain. He let's a little hiss escape and I know that if I'm going to get things back on track, this is my chance. I put my hand over the two small punctures on my neck and say as calmly as I can: "Put me down please."

He does so immediately and moves quickly to his desk, which he leans back against, gripping the edge with tight fists. It looks like he's breathing heavily, but I know he is smelling the odors in the room. I quickly run through what they must be: My sweat and arousal, my blood, the silver now partially exposed on my neck. What he won't smell is my fear. There's no explaining it, but having the feeling of Eric wanting me again, so badly: it's like adrenalin.

I can feel the blood slowly dripping down my neck into my cupped fingers. Right now I feel bold and in control from being so hopped up on lust, and I'm going to use it for all it's worth. I know if I don't speak quickly he'll start to come to his own conclusions about why I'm here and what I'm doing. I put on an exasperated face (no stretch there) and say:

"Could you please come lick my neck? I know my dress is pretty much ruined already, but I'm hoping to avoid blood stains. I think I might be able to turn your rip into a slit that looks like it's meant to be there." There, that's about as non-threatening as a girl can get.

Eric looks at me like I'm a fish that's asked for a walking-tour of the desert. He slowly licks his lips; I suppose to savor what little blood he got from me.

"Take the silver off first."

I huff out a breath. The blood trickle continues. I really _do_ want to save my dress. "Only if you promise to only close the wound, and not bite me again."

His nostrils flare. "Agreed, I promise."

I rip the chain off and throw it toward the corner of the room nearest me. Eric is there within one second lapping up the blood that has pooled in the crevice between my neck and hand. He takes his time, slowly lick lick licking me clean. I feel the blood flow cease as his clotting saliva takes effect. My hand drops away from my neck as he finishes. I look to see there is still some blood on my hand and fingers. Eric notices too. "My I?" he asks. His tone makes the question seem more like: "May I lick your hand, and then fuck you senseless?"

I hold back a smirk and say: "Alright, I guess it would be a waste to just wash it off."

He nods as he runs his hand down the length of my arm, eventually grasping me at the wrist and bringing my hand to his mouth. I suppress a moan as he takes my index finger into his mouth and slowly sucks. My finger appears and disappears a few times, entering and exiting his mouth. He keeps his eyes locked on mine. He does the same thing to my thumb and then moves on to little swirls with his tongue on my palm. He takes a break to speak:

"You're enjoying this."

I can only nod.

"You want to have sex with me. You want me to bite you."

Again, I can't tell if he's trying to glammor me. He stares so much its hard to tell. The idea that he _is_ trying to glammor me into being compliant makes me furious however, and I'm able to cut off the haze of lust I'd been drowning in.

My eyes narrow and I pull my hand away. "Are you asking me, or trying to _convince_ me?"

He doesn't seem to like my accusatory tone one bit. "I am simply stating a fact, _Sookie_." He says my name like it's a swear word. I want to slap him.

"Oh _really_? I want you to bite me and have sex with me, do I? Is that why I wore a silver necklace? Is that why I told you I had a _business_ proposal?!" Never mind that I _do_ kind of want those things… that's not what I want him to think I want!

He scoffs. "Oh yes, your manner was very business-like. All my business associates nuzzle my neck and ask to go to 'a more private place.'"

"Ugh, I did _not_ nuzzle!" Okay, maybe I nuzzled a little. "And even if I did, it's totally unfair! You know the effect you have on people; you have to listen to what people say, not what they do. No means no." I nod, yes; I've concluded my argument with the message every twelve-to-eighteen-year-old has been taught: No means No. Case closed.

Eric seems to think something in my little rant was funny, but he presses on, unwilling to loose the debate: "Oh, yes, _my_ effect on people; and I suppose you are totally ignorant of the fact that you are part fae?"

My eyes widen. Wow, Eric knew I was part fae from the moment we met? Or maybe from the moment he had my blood?

My reaction betrays me, and he presses on: "And I _sure_ you have no idea what fae blood does to vampires…"

Crap, I honestly hadn't really thought about that. Eric, and even Bill for that matter, had always been so good about controlling themselves. I really have no idea how desirable my blood is, on say, a scale of one to ten. I guess if Eric really did think I was throwing myself at him, the fae blood may have been the proverbial straw.

I take a deep breath. "Okay, you're right, I didn't really consider all this from your point of view as well as I should have. _But_, I honestly did not come in here to… do anything physical."

"No matter how much you may have wanted to" he finishes for me, wiggling his eyebrows.

I cross my arms and roll my eyes, telling him "Yes, obviously" with my body language.

"Very well," he begins in a business-like tone which might be real, or it might be meant to tease me, "What did you want to discuss?" I look at the ground and find my bag. I pick it up and take out the paperwork in the manila folder inside it.

Time to jump in the deep end.

"I am a telepath, and I am here to negotiate a contact to offer my services."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

_Eric's POV_

If I was expecting anything, it certainly wasn't this. A request to sell her home-made jewelry in the gift-shop area, maybe, but not telepathy a-la-carte. Tonight is shaping up to be much more interesting than I thought possible. The only telepath I've ever had was very interesting indeed. I am about to make a comment to that effect when Sookie hands me a folder with paperwork.

I want to continue to tease and proposition her, but it seems she has become all business. I am not usually one to give up on (or even delay) a conquest, but I find myself almost equally interested in what is under the cover of her folder as what is under her dress.

"In here you'll find my fees, requirements and contingencies. Please look it over."

I flip through the paperwork, which includes a brief introductory note on her abilities, a preliminary contract, a more lengthy contract, and a fairly detailed list of demands. My eyes widen as I get to the end. I almost snort. Who does this human think she is?

"You appear to be asking a great deal Sookie."

She holds her head up a bit higher. "I don't think so; not really"

I hope it's her fae blood that is making me feel so intoxicated. I show my fangs. "'Not really'?" I repeat to her in my best mocking monotone. I look over the papers again, making sure to read the main clauses. I am able to read at about ten times the human rate, so it takes less than a minute. She waits silently, but I can hear her heart pounding.

"I'm sorry Sookie, but no amount of your _services_," I smile at the word, "will convince me to make such an unsound business decision. Not only are your rates somewhat high, but you essentially demand total autonomy. Do you know why humans almost never attain such control or independence when dealing with vampires?"

She interrupts my monologue before I can go on, to answer the question, ignoring that it was rhetorical: "Yes, I am aware that vampires generally deal with humans through intimidation, glammor, seduction or outright abuse. They are very strong, very quick and have the advantage of hundreds of years over us poor, stupid humans. Why compromise when you can command?"

"Yes, that was… very well stated."

She continues in an effort that would put presidential candidates to shame: "But vampires have also committed to change by coming out into the open. Humans supposedly can't be commanded by vampires. Mainstreaming and fitting in to the fabric of our society is vital to your kind." I want to interrupt, but she seems to be on a role. "Now, obviously there is all sorts of secret, under the radar stuff going on that people never see, where vamps mistreat humans without consequences." She pauses and seems to consider what she will say next. "But that is going to have to stop soon enough. Humans are too powerful."

I actually _do_ snort now. "Oh yes, I shake in my boots with fear whenever I'm around one."

"Maybe you should" she says. I glare at her, enough is enough, I will not let some human tell me what _I_ should fear.

"I see. Well, thank you for your time." I rip the contract into pieces, throw it away and motion for her to get out.

I expect her to at least protest the destruction of her precious document, but she simply takes a step forward and continues: "Hear me out. Humans may be weak, and of little consequence to you, but they are all around you. They outnumber you a hundred to one – maybe more. They care for your homes, they help run your bar, they handle your business during the daytime and _feed_ you at night." She takes another step forward. "Of course they have little chance of winning a physical fight, but in the bigger picture, that doesn't matter. Wars are not won on battlegrounds anymore; we've evolved beyond pure physicality. Power now comes from information, and information is what humans have. It's a part of their very existence."

She takes a breath and I find I am eagerly awaiting what she has to say next.

"This is where I can be of use. People are thinking all the time, and I hear them. They think of things they don't even _know_ they know. Access codes, secrets, everything they hear throughout the day. I used to go almost crazy with it, but now I have control, and I can be a great asset. All I ask is fair treatment and control over my own life." She pauses. "At least, as much control as anyone _can_ have."

Well, will wonders never cease? An articulate human.

There is still a gaping hole in her logic however.

"You have not addressed your first point. Vampires are strong; vampires do not need to compromise. This "under the radar" activity of which you speak, is larger than you could ever imagine. Mainstreaming is important to our kind, yes, but we will never cater to humans in an attempt to be accepted by them."

I find myself wishing Pam were here. She would find this so amusing. I will repeat it to her later.

I ask the million dollar question: "Now that you have revealed yourself, what is to keep me from 'intimidating, glammoring, seducing or outright abusing you,' as you so eloquently put it, to do what I will?"

She is practically glowing with passion and determination. Even if we cannot come to an agreement on her proposal, I _will_ see her again. She shakes her head a little and answers:

"You could try to intimidate me into working for you or others. You could threaten me with physical harm, or death, or threaten my loved ones. But what would that get you? An employee who fears and hates you. You must know by now from living for so many centuries: ruling through fear and terror can only work for so long. Eventually the oppressed rise up. You could never trust me or my information. By fostering a pleasant working relationship, I will _want_ to do my best. It just doesn't make sense to hurt someone you'll be relying on."

I consider this and can find no solid rejoinder. Obviously all these issues go away if she is tricked or forced into bonding with me or another vampire, but she doesn't know that, so I move on: "Well, that takes care of intimidation and abuse. What about the other two?"

She scrunches her nose and says: "Well, I assume you've already figured out I can't be glammored."

"Yes." Damn, her bathroom break wasn't a fluke then. I try again. Nothing. Interesting.

"And seduction?" I leer.

She blushes. Interesting. She _does_ smell like a virgin, but I thought it was just wishful thinking on my part.

"Well, I suppose in terms of seduction I'll just have to rely on myself, and decide if my choices are truly my own. I… well obviously I'm very attracted to you, but you make a good point. We should probably keep things strictly business between us."

I make a good point?! _I make a good_… oh she's good.

Even though I am practically dizzy with this girl's potential, I play hard ball: "I'm not convinced. Additionally, there is bureaucracy in place in my world which dictates some matters cannot be handled by myself alone. If you are looking for long-term commitments this will have to go through others."

Even if she only wants to do short engagements, I will have to notify the queen. And if she _does_ prove to be useful, the queen will surely want her for herself; perhaps even to make another lover. That will not happen. I will have to consider my options carefully. I cannot appear to be undermining the queen's interests.

She turns on her heel and walks out. If this is a bargaining tactic, I am impressed and confused. Does she really think I will go after her?

The seconds tick by.

I may go after her.

She is back in less than a minute with more papers. A copy. Smart girl. "Okay, so, here is another copy of the first-stage preliminary contract, which you only need to consider, not sign. I will offer my services to you at a rate of $75.00 per hour for periods of no more than six hours at a time, and no more than twenty hours a week. For trips or long-term engagements, I will not participate in anything longer than a week, and salary will be decided upon for each engagement and paid beforehand. If I am required to leave the state, additional fees will be incurred. If I sustain bodily harm, additional fees will apply, with the option to cut association altogether. Any humans revealed to be doing unlawful acts through my work must go through due-process where applicable. The rest is all pretty straightforward and you can go through it."

I just sit there. She is only telling me what I have already read.

"Now, to your objections: You will see that the only thing that requires a signature tonight is a one-hour contract. I will perform my services for the next hour at no charge, and if at the end of that hour if you are still not convinced, fair enough. If you _do_ feel my services are at least as beneficial as I have stated, at the end of the hour we can re-open negotiations. It's win-win.

In terms of dealing with your… vampire hierarchy: I know there are higher ups that you will have to report to and consult. That is why there are alternate signature places on the second contract. At this time I only want to work locally, but I am open to dealing with other vampires in the future. I would prefer to have you as a go-between when the time comes, but we can discuss that later. The first contract is with you, and you alone. I will work for you under its conditions, and sign new contracts over time should other offers be made to me. I will not work without a contract drafted through my lawyer."

She swallows. She has been talking a long time, she must be thirsty. Maybe I should start keeping some bottled water in here.

"Eric?"

She sounds uncertain for the first time during our conversation. "I would appreciate it if you downplayed some of the more… passionate parts of my little speech when speaking with other vampires about this. I said what I did because I was really worked up, and I figured you would be understanding of that." She clicks her tongue. "I don't imagine many vampires would like to be told they should fear humans."

I am angered again at hearing it. "No, they would not."

She shakes her head. "Honestly, I just wanted to explain the possibilities, the potential that people who seem insignificant can hold. Fear was not the right word to use. I apologize."

I nod and start thinking about all she has said. I flip to the first page and sign.

"You have one hour."

* * *

Author's Note: Just want to fully own up to "borrowing" the "control over my own life" line directly from CH (or rather, as I remember reading it). I liked that very much, and think it says a lot about Sookie.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

_Sookie POV_

I take a deep breath as I exit Eric's office and head for the center of Fangtasia. I feel like I have just done the mental equivalent of running ten miles, but I have to focus and keep it together so I can prove my worth. Prove my right to control my interactions with vampires.

I scan people as I pass, but also let my mind process how I am feeling (if I don't I'll probably have a melt down in right here and now). The most horrible part of the last couple years has been losing control. I know it's a common feeling among people that have suffered abuse, especially as children, to want to be in control of everything around them. I remember Gran used to do exercises with me after she found out about Uncle Bartlett. One time I had ten or twelve different paints, and Gran sat there and asked me to paint whatever I wanted. I remember "hearing" at the time that a doctor had told her that the process would make me feel like I had choices; like I could control the outcomes of situations.

Mainly it just made me feel like Gran loved me and would do anything for me, because even as I got paint under the tarp and onto her great-grandfather's hand-carved table --which she prized above all her other worldly possessions-- all she thought was "Well now, it's worth getting a little paint spilled to have my Sookie painting something so pretty."

As I recall I painted a hideous misshapen square with an orange and blue blob next to it.

Things actually started out fine with working for the vamps, I reflect. Sure, I was mainly doing it because I had to, and as a way to be involved in Bill's world, but I felt like I was a working professional in Texas, and even up to a certain point in Rhodes. It was dangerous, but I _liked_ being productive with what I had always thought of as a curse, a disability.

But then Andre tried to bond himself to me. The idea is still horrific; and as much as I care for Eric, the idea of being unwillingly bonded to him is horrible too. To loose control, to be controlled by vampires; it's just simply not something I am willing to put up with this time around.

I scan the bar and find a few small things to tell Eric (poor Ginger has been sneaking a bottle of vodka a week). The under-cover cop has just gotten his third drink and plans to check the bathroom once he's done. He's pissed he's spent so much time in a vampire bar and hasn't found anything to justify the raid he so desperately wants. I see the vampire that drains the human in the bathroom in Timeline A talking to Pam. His outfit is totally outrageous; it's a red pleather jumpsuit of some kind. Vampires.

Now, to find the human fangbanger that sets this whole thing off.

Across the room a shy, depressive young woman makes the decision to approach the red pleather vampire once he finishes talking to Pam. I hear from her that her name is Ted, which is confusing, until I dig a little deeper to learn her whole name is Theodora. Poor girl, no wonder she's depressed. With a name like that your parents are setting you up to fail. I hear that she's a computer programmer, and has been thinking about killing herself for a little over a month. She's a very clear broadcaster; I'm surprised I didn't hear her the last time I was here:

_I can't stand to be like this anymore. I can't be alone with this pain anymore; I bet I can get that vamp to drain me. God, I've had too much to drink, maybe I should just go home. No! I came here to do it and I'm going to do it. At least if he drains me, I'll die in the arms of a beautiful man, not alone in my shitty one-bedroom apartment, decaying for weeks before the super comes in to collect the rent. _

She goes on, detailing her plan, practicing what she'll say.

It's getting close now. I'd better go make my report.

I knock at Eric's door and he calls out for me to come in. As I walk in and close the door he says: "What, is this some kind of new time measurement where an hour is—" he looks at the clock, "forty-six minutes?"

"I can do the last fourteen minutes after I tell you what I need to tell you." My tone is direct and uncompromising, but calm. He sets his pen down and gives me his full attention.

_That's right buddy, prepare to be wowed_.

I decide to reel it out all in one go:

"A female human named Ted is bent on getting herself killed. She's depressed and wants to die. This would be none of your concern, I'm sure, except that she is planning on getting the tall, dark-haired male vampire in the red jumper to bite her momentarily in the bathroom. She will do whatever she can to egg him into finishing the job. She has been watching him. Last week he almost took too much blood from a blond girl in the ally nearby. Ted heard Pam reprimanding him about being more careful. She will no doubt succeed in getting killed. This again, may not concern you, but there is an undercover cop at the bar who plans to check the bathroom in about ten minutes."

He asks me to describe the cop in detail, and I quickly do.

Eric has gotten up and is almost out of the room when he stops and asks: "Anything else?" I think a beat and say: "The kid with the spiky hair and the Journey t-shirt is trying to sell some coke to two middle-aged hippie tourists by the merchandise counter. There're a couple other things, but they don't involve the potential raid that will occur in about twenty minutes."

At the word "raid" Eric is gone, and I take a seat on his cool leather sofa.

I could use another drink.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Getting the timing right on all of this has been half luck, and half blind determination. I knew telling Eric about the cop and the raid were juicy enough to get me hired right off the bat, but I also didn't want to let that fangbanger (who turns out to just be a very depressed girl, and who I now can't stop thinking of as "Wants to be dead Ted") die in the bathroom this time around. But, getting Ted through this alive, but still convincing Eric that she _would_ have died, and there _would _have been a raid was a tricky business. I'm pretty sure I have it timed so that Eric should interrupt Red Pleather and Ted in the bathroom at a critical moment, breaking things up before Ted can kick the bucket, and before the cop can come in to discover her.

Aside from Ted and the kid with the drugs, there is no reason for the cop to call in the raid, so by all rights it should be avoided. Before I completely loose all my steam I make my way out to the main area of Fangtasia. I see Ted's purse sitting on the table she was standing at before. I guess if you're planning to die you don't need your purse handy. I glance around and whisper to my ring "Aperio pen and paper." I jot down a quick note telling Ted that she's not alone, and that if she ever needs to talk she can come see me. I write my name, number and address at the bottom and stick the note in the purse.

From what I've seen of Ted's head (why does everything rhyme with Ted?!), she's a really sweet girl who just doesn't relate to people very well. She's been all alone for over two years. I hope she calls me; or at the very least doesn't kill herself.

I decide to wait for things to play out back in Eric's office. Last I saw Pam was talking to the cop, who looked kind of dazed, and Eric had gone into the bathroom to get Ted. My head starts spinning with everything I've juggled tonight, and my body aches from my long shift and uncomfortable shoes. Suddenly I can't keep my eyes open. Maybe I'll just take a little nap on the sofa until Eric gets back. Before drifting off I imagine Longshadow, or some other unsavory vamp discovering a sleeping Sookie with her dress ripped. I quietly whisper to my ring "Aperio chain," and the silver chain that bound Bill appears in my hand. I wrap it a few times around my neck and let it rest on my upper body.

My last fleeting thought is that if Eric wants me to do another fourteen minutes of mind-reading tonight, he can just go ahead and bite me.

* * *

I have no idea how much time has passed, but I feel cool hands gently take my heels off. I hear them click on the floor next to the sofa, but can't bring myself to open my eyes, or make any move to get up. The hands linger by my feet, and a strong hand grasps my ankle and starts rubbing with delicious pressure. The massage continues down my foot and over to the other. I'm drifting off again, but I want to stay; part of me thinks this desire is to stop Eric (and I _know_ it's Eric) from moving anywhere else but my feet. The other part of me wants to… well, we decided things should be strictly business.

I begin my new mantra: "I am a professional."

Hopefully it will help counteract any future indiscretions with Eric.

He finishes the massage and I hear him moving around the room. A minute later I'm being covered with something soft. I know I'm slipping into sleep, but I can't help but feel touched at Eric's concern for my comfort.

It's only tarnished a little bit when I remember that I have on a thick silver chain that probably deterred him from groping me.

* * *

Quick note: Thanks to everyone who's been commenting! I've been nervous about my Eric voice, and his reactions to things in general. I hope he doesn't seem OOC to you guys; this is how the Eric_ I_ read is :)


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

_Sookie POV_

I open my eyes and see Eric sitting at his desk going over some papers. I examine myself and find that I am curled up on his leather sofa, shoes off, and covered in a large, dark brown suede jacket. I sit up and I run my hands over it; it feels incredible. I wonder how much my make-shift blanket cost. I hope I didn't drool on it.

Eric looks up and says: "I've been looking over your contracts." That's no surprise; I'm sure he's checked and double checked every word of them. Twice.

"These are very good. You obviously hired someone with a great deal of experience in dealing with vampire law." It's not technically a question, but I can tell he's curious.

"Yes, I believe Mr. Cataliades has worked closely with vampires for over three-hundred years." I reply, trying not to sound smug. I fold his jacket and surreptitiously watch out of the corner of my eye as Eric's eyebrows raise. I silently thank Mr. Cataliades for having such an easy to remember phone number (I only looked at his card once after he gave it to me, but how in the world do you forget 000-000-0000?!). It probably connected me to some other dimension. Talk about long distance charges.

I was pleasantly surprised at how open he was to working with me. When I explained that I had worked closely with him in an alternate timeline, he didn't seem phased at all. He did want some details of the timeline, but I only told him the stuff that had to do with him, and even then didn't give details. Once he was satisfied, he agreed to meet with me to discuss my offer. Obviously, I didn't have the money to pay for a lawyer of his caliber, but I offered to give him five percent of my earnings for the first year, and then to pay his regular rate. Once I explained my ability and who I planned to work for, he said five percent of my first five major assignments would pay me up for at least the first year of his services. I insisted that I didn't think I would be making that much.

He replied with a quick grin: "Oh you will once I act as your negotiator." He seemed genuinely interested in helping me, and on parting ways told me: "You are doing the best thing, setting ground rules with the vampires early. Take it from me, if you let them walk all over you just once, you will be lost to their will forever."

Back in the present Eric sets the contracts aside. I don't put my shoes on just yet. We have more to talk about, and I'd like to stay as comfortable as I can. I glance at the clock and see that it's just after three in the morning; Eric let me sleep for two hours.

"Thanks for the jacket," I say, to break the silence between us more than anything. It's still resting on my lap and I run my fingers over it.

"Of course. I quite like Gucci's fall line this year." Eric comments like he's talking about which coffee filter he prefers; I've never even seen a Gucci jacket in person.

"Eric! How could you let me use a jacket this nice as a blanket?! It must've cost thousands of dollars; what if I got blood on it?! My hand goes to my neck and I look the jacket over to make sure I didn't get any on it as I slept.

He grins. "Well then, I suppose my jacket would smell absolutely divine." His face becomes thoughtful. "Hmm, there's an idea. I bet any fang-banger would pay a fortune to smell like you. We could look into marketing the scent of your blood to the un-dead-adoring public."

I do not even want to consider if he is joking or not. I just scrunch my face and say: "Oh no, there'll be no _eau de Sookie_, thank you very much!"

He smiles and his eyes dance with mirth. I have to keep myself from gasping at the sense of déjà vu I feel. He looks like a spitting image of what I've come to refer to as "my Eric," the Eric I was with during his memory meltdown. Could it be that "my Eric" was always inside _this_Eric, horn-dog owner of Fangtasia?

It's the best and worst feeling in the world to see him like this. I've missed him so much, but I can't get caught up in another vampire mess right now. Things are a long way from being settled. Plus, the cold, reality-driven side of my brain whispers to me: This is _Eric_ we're talking about. Don't think he'll give up on the seduction angle of controlling you so easily. Whatever charm he's working, he's working to his advantage…

I can't think about this now; now it's time to get down to business.

"So, if you've looked them over, do you agree to the terms of the first contract?"

The first contract deals only with Eric, and is hourly (which should be perfect for when he discovers that $60,000 has been embezzled). The second contract, which will allow me to work for other vampires, is only there for Eric to present to the queen when he sees fit. That contact is the one Mr. Cataliades spent the most time on. There are about twelve addendums that say in all sorts of different ways that I can't be made to do _anything_against my will. There are only about five for the one I hope Eric is about to sign. Mr. Cataliades assured me that no vampire in their right mind would ever break a contract he has put together.

The "in their right mind" part still concerns me a bit.

In response Eric signs the various pages. I smile, relieved, and tell him that now they just need to be faxed to Mr. Cataliades at the number at the bottom of the last page (111-111-1111). He'll ensure I get a copy, which I plan to put in my ring.

He assures me that Pam will fax them within the hour, and gets up and walks over to me. He hands me a small piece of paper. I look at it, and it's a check for $75.00.

So begins Eric trying to give me things.

"Oh no, we have a contract. I did this hour for free so you could decide if you want to work with me. I can't accept payment."

Eric roles his eyes. "Sookie, you have worked very hard; obviously you are exhausted and not thinking clearly. I have decided to hire you, so I am paying you."

I stand up. "Thank you for the offer Eric, but I am tired because I worked all day before coming here, and I usually go to bed at a descent hour. I won't take this." I wave the check around for effect.

He stands too. "You are an irrational, stubborn woman."

At that I take the check, rip it up, and throw it at him. I can't help but grin at mirroring his earlier actions.

He laughs and comes around the desk to stand in front of me. Even though he's over a foot away, I can tell Bill's chain I'm still wearing is bothering him a little. "Sorry" I say and take it off, stowing it in my purse.

He looks pleased and says: "So that wasn't for me? Is there a particular vampire in the bar that you put it on for?"

My mind runs to Longshadow, but I know it's not fair to implicate him just yet. "Nope, just better safe than sorry." I don't want to go, but I really am dead on my feet. "I have a couple small things to tell you, and then I'm going to head home to bed."

I can see an innuendo on the tip of his tongue about my bed, so I forge on: "Ginger, has been sneaking alcohol from the bar. It's not a lot you'd notice, about a bottle a week. I don't want to tell you how to run your business, but you may not want to lay into her about it. The girl is totally stressed, and the liquor is honestly probably the only thing keeping her sane. She doesn't drink it here, she takes it home." He simply nods at this. I don't know if that means he knew or not; guess it's not my business.

"Also, Randy, the guy who manages the merchandise is feeling… flustered… by the attention of the large Hispanic vamp that generally sits in the corner, Eduardo, I think his name is. So far it's just talk, but he's gonna quit soon if the guy doesn't let up. Randy is a good guy, and a good worker, but he's working here to pay the bills, not hook up with vamps. Also, he's married."

Eric nods again. "It is not the most obvious use of your talent, but you would make a very good PR person."

I blush a little and suddenly remember to ask: "Oh, what did you do about the guy with the drugs?"

Eric looks hesitant to tell me for a moment, but then says "I told him I would personally remove his coke-snorting nose if he ever brought drugs into my establishment again. Needless to say he left in a hurry." Despite the fact that I know he is totally serious about _removing_ a person's nose, I laugh.

"And how's Ted? Did she make it out of here okay?"

"The depressed woman did not suffer enough blood loss to make it unsafe for her to drive. I had Pam give her a cookie; we have new ones with "I Don't Give a Fang" written in red frosting."

Before I can think of how much Eric doesn't care, I comment: "I hope she's alright. She's just lonely."

Then Eric says something I'll have to mull over later: "Loneliness is no small thing. Almost no living creature can be alone always; vampire's have been driven mad with it. Why do you think we make our children?" He sounds almost sad as he says it, and then goes on in a more normal tone:

"Incidentally, I heard Pam telling the woman, Ted, that she was very beautiful, so she may not be alone tonight." He winks.

I smile, not because I am too keen on Pam seducing Ted, but because it will be a nice ego boost for her at least. Ted's mind is very ordered, and she likes to think of things in categories (which is why she's so good with science and computers I guess, and also why most people don't understand her). This tendency also applies when it comes to sex, and she is very, very straight.

Poor Pam; can't win 'em all.

I get up and start to make my way toward the door. Oh my, what happened against the door earlier… well, I'll just ignore it; I am a professional. Yes. Eric follows me out of the office and escorts me to my car. He looks at my car with some censure, but has the sense not to say anything. We stand by the car for a minute and I feel like I'm at the end of a date.

For a moment I actually think he's going to lean in for a kiss, but he just reaches out and shakes my hand. "It's been a pleasure Sookie; I will call you later in the week to discuss scheduling etc."

I nod and get in my car, ready to get home and sleep like the dead.

* * *

By the time I pull into my driveway I am totally zonked. Thank goodness I don't have to work until five tomorrow! I just about jump out of my skin when I walk up the porch and find Bill standing in my entryway.

"Sookie; I am sorry to have frightened you, I merely was concerned when--" he stops mid-sentence and is suddenly right up in my personal space. He sniffs and steps back a bit to take me in. I know I must look pretty disheveled. My dress, once pressed and professional (or at least semi-professional), is rumpled, ripped, and quite a bit worse for the wear. I know the small puncture marks are visible, and I have no idea what to tell Bill.

I have just enough time to think "Well crap" before Bill starts interrogating me. "Are you alright? I can smell Eric on you. Did he force himself on you Sookie? You can tell me. Where did you meet Eric? I will _kill_ him--"

The ferocity of his last statement shocks me. Is he putting on an act, or does he really care that Eric may have… accosted me? I guess it doesn't matter right now. He grabbed my shoulders as he reeled off his questions, and his hands are now tightening. I'd better answer him.

"Bill, I am fine. I met Eric at Fangtasia. I, he didn't force himself on me. Well, there was some confusion, he thought… well it doesn't matter, the point is I'm fine."

"_Why _were you at Fangtasia?"

That's it. "Bill, it is almost four thirty in the morning. I have worked all day. A man I knew and trusted is a murdering psychopath. I have not eaten in what seems like days, and I have had a somewhat stressful evening. I will _not _be interrogated in my own home (on the porch, whatever). I am fine, I had business at Fangtasia. If you'd like to know more we can discuss it when I am not about to pass out. Now goodnight."

At that I open the front door and go inside.

I know it's not Bill's fault, and I think he's genuinely worried about me, but honestly, he has no right to demand information like that.

Tomorrow is going to be a long day. I have the "I'm working for vampires now" talk with Gran, and now it looks like I have an "I'm a telepath and I'm working for Eric" talk on tap with Bill. I should probably let Sam know too. He is going to blow a fuse.

On top of that, there are all sorts of things I need to think about where Eric is concerned. Right now I don't have the energy for any of it. Instead as I drift off I focus on how I made Eric laugh tonight, and how he sucked on my fingers.

Yep; I am a professional.

* * *

In the morning there is a gift box sitting on the porch. Inside is a black suede Gucci coat, in exactly my size. I pick up the note, to find a gift card inside of it to the mall in Shreveport for $75.00. The note reads:

"For your ruined dress, and your hard work."

-E


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

_Sookie POV_

I debate with myself about how to tell Gran about these recent developments. I'm going to have to have what is basically my first-ever candid talk with her about my telepathy, and I'm nervous. I know she'll accept me whatever I do; whatever I am. I just feel strange talking about what has never even been acknowledged out loud.

When I get up and go downstairs she's peeling carrots at the sink for chicken soup. I can smell her bacon-chive corn bread baking in the oven. Keeping to my Gran-free diet has been almost impossible. Instead I've opted for smaller portions, and only eating salads when I eat at work. I join Gran at the left of the sink and start to chop the carrots as she gets done peeling them. Random streams of sunlight come in through the yellow curtains above the sink and play across the kitchen.

Gran smiles at me and continues to hum the little song she'd been singing when I came in. I've heard her sing it before, and ask what it is.

"Oh!" she says, as if she didn't realize she'd been doing it. "It's just a song a man I once knew used to sing." I have no doubt that the "man" in question is actually my fairy grandfather, but Gran's tone gives me pause about pushing for more detail.

I decide that if Gran doesn't want to talk about it, I won't force the issue. We've moved on to chopping celery before I feel ready to start our talk.

"Gran, I have something to tell you." She tells me to go on, and continues chopping the celery. "Well, I'm not really sure how to put this, but you know how I can hear people's thoughts?"

Chop, chop, chop

…

She puts the knife down. Before I can go on, she says: "Sookie! Whatever you heard, I hope you know I loved your grandfather, it wasn't... well, there's almost no way to explain how I felt, but Sookie, he was so beautiful, and light, and …"

Oh crap.

"No, no, no! Gran, no! I didn't read your mind just now! I would never _do_ that!! No! I just wanted to tell you about a new job I have."

She keeps her eyes down, straightening the celery next to the carrots. "I see."

"I, I went to Shreveport and set it up with a vampire down there. I guess, you know, my ability is useful in a lot of ways." This is so unbearably awkward.

She doesn't say anything, but I think I can detect a faint blush on her cheeks, and she won't look at me. That rips it.

I grab her and hug her to me. "Gran, you snap out of it! I could never learn anything about you that would make me stop loving you, or stop respecting you."

After I let her go she pulls back and wipes a little tear from her eye. "I never told a soul. I was never going to tell anyone."

"Gran, everyone has things they don't talk about, I should know." I wonder how I would have reacted to her telling me if I hadn't already known. I remember being so shocked, and almost feeling betrayed when I found out about my fae lineage after she died. I'm glad I'm able to react this way now. The last thing I want my Gran to feel is that I'm ashamed of her. Sometimes you can't help who you love.

I also don't want her to think I've been fishing in her thoughts: "I hope you don't think I go traipsing around in your head either; I haven't listened to you since, well since I don't know when!"

Gran still looks upset, but also curious. "When was the last time you _can_ remember?"

I think on it a minute and laugh. "When I was thirteen and I heard you thinking that you wished I would be more careful about wearing my nice underthings when I start my period. I did my own laundry from that day on! Lord, I was so embarrassed."

Gran laughs now too. "Mercy. Tell me a little about how it happens! What do you hear?" She seems really interested, like these questions have been on the tip of her tongue for years.

I spend the rest of the afternoon talking with Gran. She tells me about how around my grandfather it was almost like being in a trance, like a warm blanket of light she couldn't deny. She also told me about the guilt she's lived with all these years. I tell her more about how I hear people, and some of the funniest things I've heard. We're practically rolling on the floor laughing when I see that it's four-thirty and I need to get ready for work.

As I drive to work I'm overcome with emotion. I never realized how keeping that part of myself from Gran had kept me a little bit apart from her. I wonder if she feels the same about her fae secret. The afternoon wasn't all laughs. I talked to her about how hard it was for me when I was young, how hard it _still _was well in to my early twenties. Gran told me she'd wished she could have talked to me about it, but she felt too upset by it, thinking it was part of me being of the fae. She said although she always _knew_, she never really let herself come to grips with it.

What she said rang true with me more than I would like, and my thoughts turned to Eric. I told her a little more about Eric and my new job, and with a gleam in her eye as she said "So _that's_ why Vampire Bill has been put on the back burner." Never let anyone tell you my Gran isn't quick.

She gave me some advice about him, but I'll have to think on later, right now I have to mentally prepare to tell Sam.

* * *

I was so beat up after Rene's first big reveal, that I didn't see much of the public's reaction. Work is definitely pretty strained. Both Dawn and Arlene are back because they need the money, but it's obvious that they aren't coping with being under the public eye very well. It's a little better for Dawn, she was assaulted, so people tend to just ask her to recount the attack, or if they're feeling really generous they ask how she's doing with false sincerity.

Arlene is basically walking through a gossip shit-storm. I really do feel bad for her. She can't take an order or walk across the room without almost everyone staring, commenting, whispering or judging. On her break I hear her crying in the bathroom. I knock lightly on the stall. "Arlene, it's Sookie." She only whimpers, but I hear the lock click. As soon as I'm in she's hugging me.

"I am so sorry Sookie! I brought a monster into our lives! I'm so sorry, I tried to apologize to Dawn but she keeps saying "Oh, you couldn't have known."… Why does this always happen to me? I attract every messed up guy in the tri-state area. What's wrong with me?!"

I don't know what to say; I know right now she's not going to hear any sense. I have to get back to my tables, but I feel like there must be something I can say to her.

"Honey, you know about me hearing people, right?" She nods against my shoulder. "Well, let me tell you that there isn't one person out there without darkness and hate and horribleness running through them. People can be all kinds of sick, and even if you can see right into them you can't always see it. I didn't, right?" She nods again.

"Rene, he kept that part of himself all locked away, to where I'm not even sure if he could see it himself. You didn't do _anything_ wrong by me, Dawn, or anyone. And you can't close yourself off to people either; I did that for a long time and it is not worth it."

She steps back and looks better than she has all shift. She blows her nose on some toilet paper and says "Well, my eyes must look like big raccoon splotches!" With that she rushes to the mirror and starts fixing herself up. I to the door and turn to leave, but before I do I turn back and say: "And don't let those people bother you a bit either. They weren't there, they don't know what happened. Next week some other drama will blow through and they'll be back to liking you, asking for more beer and staring at Crazy Sookie. So just hang in there."

Arlene looks away from her reflection in the mirror and at me. "This must be what every shift is like for you, isn't it?"

I smile a little and reply: "This is what every hour of my life is like Arlene. The only break I get is around vampires; I can't hear them at all." She looks thoughtful and nods. "That's good, I'm glad you have some relief like that. I don't like vampires, but if a human can be as twisted as Rene was, I'll bet there must be at least one decent vamp out there too."

I shake my head and say I have to get back out there. I hope Arlene can get it together this time around. I guess after Rene it makes sense that she tried to seek out the utmost in "good" and "normal."

Too bad that the fellowship is the exact opposite.

* * *

I decide to wait til the end of my shift to talk to Sam. I've finished all my closing duties and go to find him in his office. He's making out time cards, but puts them away as I come in.

"Thank you again for coming in the other day Sook, and thanks for not getting attacked, traumatized or sick this past week." He smiles his wry smile.

"Oh you know me Sam, I do what I can." I close the door and walk over to the battered extra chair he keeps in here. "I actually have something I want to talk to you about." He's all ears, so I jump right in.

"I've gotten another job." At this statement his face stays the same, but I can feel waves of sadness rolling off him.

"Well, Cher, I guess I always new you burned to brightly to stay here forever."

I'm practically in tears at the thought that Sam thinks I'm leaving for good, and that he is so torn up about it. I burn too brightly...

"No, no! I just, it's not a regular thing; it should only be one or two nights a week at most! Some weeks I probably won't go at all." Instead of sadness now there's a surge of relief, and I have to fortify my mental shields just to keep focused on what I'm saying.

"Oh, oh that's great. I was about to have a heart attack! Losing a server right now is just about the last thing in the world I need." I'm hurt a little that he doesn't acknowledge that he'd miss me, Sookie, not just a worker. But then I realize that he is really just following the boundaries I've set over the years.

"I would never just leave like that Sam! You know I like working here; and, and well, you're one of my best friends." There, I said it; I crossed the work-personal line.

Sam smiles, and I can tell he's working up to telling me about his "more than friends" feelings. I can't deal with that right now, so I let the cat out of the bag.

"Actually, my new job is with a vampire bar in Shreveport."

Sam growls. Literally growls!

"Now Sam, I know that you are not the biggest fan of vampires--" Before I can go on he interrupts me.

"Are you insane Sookie?! Look, if you need money we can talk about that, you don't have to--"

I interrupt him: "Sam! Sam, I am not just going to be some cocktail waitress. I have made up formal agreements to contract out my ability. You know, that thing I can do that we never talk about."

He just sits there, mouth agape. I go on, "I have made this decision after a lot of thought, and a lot of research. I know you may not believe me, but I know what I'm doing and what I'm getting into, and if you can't support me, well; I guess you can fire me."

Sam shakes his head and looks at me like I'm twelve, and retarded. "Sookie, you do NOT know what you are doing. Working with vampires; it's a whole other world." He takes a deep breath and runs his hands through his hair and stands. "Look, there's something I never told you. I'm not like other people. I have a gift too; not a gift like yours, but…" he hesitates, and then turns into the collie.

I don't know how to react. Should I pretend to be shocked? Mad? Scared? I decide that I can't pretend anymore with Sam. I bend down and rub his ears and say: "I know what you are Sam, and I know what vampires are too. Don't worry about me." I hug his warm little dog body and then move to take an extra copy of my contracts out of my purse. "Here is what I've had the vampire sign. Look it over." Then I take the ugly orange and brown knit blanket that Sam always keeps in here and I wrap it around him.

He shifts back immediately, covered by the blanket, looking at me with wide eyes. "_How_? _What_?"

I really can't stand to get into fae time travel, so I opt for a little white lie. "Sam, I hear what people think. I know there's lots of supernatural stuff out there that nobody talks about, or even sees most of the time. Who am I to be surprised by any sort of strangeness?" I tap my head.

"Also, people that change, shifters right (I try to make the term sound new on my tongue)? They sound different." He looks really interested now. "What do I sound like? Wait, Sookie, you've been listening to my thoughts?"

"You sound fuzzy, like people talking in the room above you. All I can really get is feelings, and even then it's hard work." That is, I don't say, unless you're broadcasting like a rock concert. "If I try really hard I can get words and clear thoughts, and NO! I do _not_ listen to your thoughts! You're my boss!"

"Why didn't you tell me any of this before?"

"I could ask the same of you Sam Merlotte!"

He smiles sheepishly, and his eyes clear as he turns to look over my contracts. He reads for about five minutes before whistling. "This is some serious stuff Sookie. But, I can't deny that these look good. If the vampires do sign it you should be fine." He looks at me like an opaque curtain that was between us has been pulled aside.

"You know that if you ever have any trouble you can call me, right? I _can_ turn into something more helpful than a collie."

I could cry with relief; I was so worried he wouldn't respect my decisions.

I give him a quick hug (very quick since all he's got on is a thin blanket!) and thank him, before picking up my contracts and heading for home.

The drive back is relaxing. After talking with people all day it's nice to have a break. I am dying for a shower, but as I walk up to the back porch all my hopes for soap and warm wetness recede as Bill steps out from the shadows.

"We need to talk."

* * *

**A big thanks to AmaZen and murgatroid-98 for recognising that the part where Arlene and Sookie talk is similar to the season one episode 12 ep of True Blood. I knew it was from somewhere! I want to officially acknowledge that I borrowed from the show on that part.**

**Also, in response to a couple of the comments: I'm able to update so quickly because I have commited to myself that I will at least write some each day, which keeps me a couple chapters ahead of what I post. Each day I proof-read the next chapter and post it. I feel like if I slow down or pause it will never get done (and I HAVE to finish this before school starts again in the Fall). So yeah, if you haven't noticed, I post a new chapter every night (well, morning since I'm a night owl). **

**I am really writing this as a fan of fanfiction, and I can't stand waiting for WIPs, so I am going to try to keep this pace for as long as possible!**


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

"We need to talk" Bill says as he walks out into the light cast by the porch light.

I sigh. This is the conversation I've dreaded the most after Gran's. It _would_ have to be the last, after an extremely long day. Why can't vampires function during the day again? I have no doubt that Bill wants some answers to the questions he drilled me with last night.

I take a seat in one of the rocking chairs and rest my aching feet up on the railing. "Fire away, Bill."

He looks a bit affronted at my casual attitude. I'm a little surprised myself, but honestly, I'm tried and I want to go to bed. I just don't have the energy to pretend anymore. It seemed to work out fine with Sam, and Arlene, and my grandmother come to think of it. _Alright_, I think to myself _no more fake smiles and deflection. Let him ask away._

Bill sits down stiffly in the companion rocking chair and suddenly I imagine us as an old couple, me with a sweet tea, him with a synthetic blood, sitting in our rockers shooting the breeze. I giggle, and Bill looks at me like I've gone mad.

He still isn't saying anything, so I say: "'Fire away' means you can ask me whatever you want Bill."

"I was in a _war_ Sookie; I know what 'fire away' means." He sounds pissy. If I wasn't so over talking I might be concerned at his tone. Instead I just look off into the woods across from the house and wait.

A minute passes and he finally says: "You went to Fantasia." Not technically a question, but I nod.

"You went there to discuss business of some kind." I nod. Okay, Bill seems to want to repeat back to me what little I told him last night.

"Eric, thought you wanted… something else." Nod.

"So you corrected him and he complied?" His tone takes on a disbelieving lilt at the last part. I cock my head and reply: "More or less."

"Meaning what?"

I sigh. Here we get in to what do I tell Bill, and what do I _not_ tell Bill? I decide since I am thinking of Bill as a friend, I will tell him what I would tell my friend. "Well, when I was talking to Eric, I guess I could have been clearer. I asked to speak with him privately, which he took to mean "please let's have sex and bite me." Bill makes a noise that sounds like he's trying to suppress a cough. "As you saw his fangs grazed me, but I can't say that I was totally innocent. I'm attracted to Eric and I like him."

I continue to look out into the woods as I speak; I feel like I'm talking to myself. "Anyway, I had on some silver so things came to a halt before anything happened, and we discussed my offer, and I left." I shrug. That's what happened. More or less.

Bill considers this. "Do you want to be Eric's?"

Now _that's_ a question.

I answer: "I don't want to be anyone's; to be owned like a dog, Bill. I want to own my own life. I want to live and work without the fear that anyone is trying to coerce me, or trick me or hurt me. As of right now I want to be on my own, and I want to keep my business dealings strictly business. I don't want to become romantically involved with someone who I think may just be using me." I run my fingers through my hair.

Bill considers this for a long moment. I know everything I've just said could apply to both Eric and Bill; and hell, almost any guy.

"You're a telepath."

I look Bill straight in the eye. "Yes I am."

Bill looks away and makes a little sighing noise. I always liked that he still makes human noises. Finally he speaks: "I was sent here for you, to Bon Temps. I was sent to convince you to… be open to working for my kind."

Hearing the words, it's more painful than I thought. I turn my head away as my eyes start to sting. This is what I'd told Bill I wanted in Timeline A. For him to have been honest with me. I guess if I had been a little less _compliant_, he would have eventually told me.

No. There is no knowing what would have happened. I've changed things so much. Bill can tell me now because I'm under contract to work with the vampires; his mission has become moot. I notice he said "convince," not seduce. Even now he can't be fully honest.

I manage to grind out: "I appreciate you telling me."

"I, wanted to Sookie. Please believe that I have not enjoyed deceiving you." He looks as if he doesn't want to go on, but forces the words out: "But I must also tell you that I am telling you now because Eric has ordered me to."

"Oh?" That's all I can think to say: 'Oh.' God, even as things stand Bill needs to be pushed by Eric to clear the air. To be honest with me. Bill was always so secretive, so closed off.

He goes on, "I met with Eric tonight and he told me about your meeting; that you have negotiated to act as a professional telepath. I told him that I had been sent in order to accomplish that very goal. To learn more about you and asses if you could help us. He was delighted to have undermined my mission." He's scowling now. Sometimes I cannot believe Bill. If I actually DID have feelings for him at this point, I would be mad as a hellcat that he was pouting about his _mission_ getting undermined! Vampires! Men! Errr!

I take a deep breath.

"Honestly Bill, I don't feel a bit sorry about going over your head. You've lied to me, and _pretended_ to be my friend in order to use me!"

"Sookie, you don't understand, I was under orders. I could not tell you."

This again. Sweet lord I am over that excuse, but at least in this timeline we are just friends. We have only interacted a handful of times. In this timeline, Bill's actions thus far are not unforgivable, and I can't punish him as if we'd really begun a romantic relationship. I have already done that once, and as far as I am concerned, those wounds are healed.

Or at the very least heavily scabbed.

"Bill, I can understand that you had orders, but how am I supposed to know that now you don't have oders to _tell_ me you had orders in order to get close to me to use me!?" Uhg, why don't I say "orders" again? I'm not making sense, even to myself.

I rephrase: "How can I trust that you're not tricking me, or lying to me?"

Bill lowers his head. "I suppose you cannot. I can only say that your contract has made that a very slim possibility, and that I hope you will consent to see me again."

I know that the possibility of Bill using me is almost entirely gone now better than anyone. He will _not_ be seducing me, and none of my work will go through him; I designed it that way.

That doesn't mean I don't get to punish him a little though.

"Bill, I've come to think of you as my friend. I would _like_ to fully trust you; and I think some day I can work my way up to that. For now I would like you to promise me something."

He looks up and I see what looks like hope in his eyes. Lord, I don't want to lead him on, but I want him to be my friend, so I continue.

"Even if there is some top secret vampire stuff going on that I can't know about, I want you to tell me if there is something going on to do with me. You don't have to tell me details, but if you try and trick or manipulate me into doing something ever again, this is over. You will have no access to me."

Bill looks hesitant, but then says "I promise."

I stand up and so does Bill. I think about hugging him, but it is too intimate a gesture just now. I pat him on the shoulder and smile at him weakly, but genuinely.

"Goodnight Bill."

"Goodnight, Sookie."

* * *

_Bill's POV_

Last night when she came home reeking of Eric I had assumed the worst. If he had been able to seduce her where I failed, not only would I have looked incredibly ineffectual to the queen, but Eric would have had Sookie.

Rage bubbles up in me at the thought.

I cannot name what it is I feel for Sookie, but I want her. I will not let Eric have her; not without a fight.

Not a literal fight of course. I could never best Eric, but it seems Sookie does not have plans to choose a vampire mate any time soon. This will give me time to woo her. I am a little shocked she was not more off put by Eric's brazenness. From what I can tell she has never been bitten before, and by all accounts of the townspeople has never had a real relationship with a man. I am confident that once she gets over Eric's… appeal, she will prefer me. I am safe, I am reliable. She must see that Eric is only interested in sex.

Her words come back to me: _I'm attracted to Eric and I like him._

Surely the same could be said for me? If she does choose Eric, I will be obliged to let her go.

No, she has only met Eric once, and I have the advantage of living nearby. In the coming months I will be Sookie's friend. We will build a friendship, and out of that will grow something more.

I am sure of it.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

_Sookie POV_

Diane and her nest mates don't come around again. I can't really say why they didn't come back, or if they did why they didn't confront Bill and make a stink. Perhaps Bill interacted with them differently in some way… I don't know. This is the first change I've noticed that I didn't plan for, or orchestrate. Honestly it freaks me out a little, like there are all sorts of changes happening that I have no control over, and no awareness of.

I don't know how to feel about it. I suppose I'm a little regretful that they didn't get burned in their coffins. I feel like I should almost feel guilty about any abuse they cause humans in the future; after all, the changes I made somehow resulted in them staying alive… or, not finally dead. On the other hand, the fangbanger who was with them when they got burned is still alive. I decide what happens now is no more right or wrong than what happened in Timeline A. People live and people die, and I can't be accountable for everyone.

I don't know if I really believe that. Some moments I don't feel responsible for anyone; some I feel responsible for everyone.

No other attacks were made on vampires (Bill or anyone else). I suppose because Rene was caught so quickly, the town didn't get stirred up into hysteria over the danger of vampires. Its also helped that Bill has attended two more Descendants meetings, and with each one people seem to warm to him more.

Even Arlene seems to be coming around to him. Hopefully she'll get enough positive interaction to dissuade her from joining up with the Fellowship when the time comes.

Eric called me as he said he would about a week after our meeting. He said that he would like me to come to Fangtasia for several hours twice a month and simply sit-in, and "let him know about any PR problems." My job is basically to sit around for a few hours, listen to as many people as I can, and report what I find.

I did my first engagement last night, and it went well. There were no major issues; Ginger is now taking two bottles a week, and one of the humans had a stake in his bag. He wasn't serious about using it; he'd just seen _The Lost Boys_ one time too many growing up and was having a good time fantasizing. Eric banned him from the bar, very publicly. I was able to chat with Pam, and that went as it always does: with her pretending to be stoic and unaffected, but secretly loving it.

By the end of the night I'd made three hundred and seventy-five big ones, and made Eric laugh twice. In the next few days Eric should contact me about the missing money. I've been puzzling over how to handle that, and I think I have a plan.

Overall life is good; Jason's staying out of trouble, Gran seems happy, and Bill, well Bill is trying really hard to make me trust him. To be honest he's trying a bit too hard. Several times this week he's swung by to watch a movie, or talk, or drop something off for one of Gran's meetings. If he's trying to get someone to fall in love, he's succeeding.

Too bad it's Gran that's doing the falling.

It's gotten to where I've decided to tell him about every-other time that I'm tired from work, and I shoo him away. I feel bad, but even through I like Bill, I don't want him to be my BFF, or worse, lover.

He _is_being more open with me than he was in Timeline A. He has expressed interest in making the database of vampires, and talks about it avidly. Right now it's just an idea to him, but it's nice to see him passionate about something. He is also planning to go to New Orleans soon to campaign for the Investigator position.

It's Saturday just past noon and I'm cleaning the grout in the downstairs shower. It's gross, hot, sweaty work, but it's also really satisfying. I'm using my cleaning-toothbrush to get the last little bits of discoloration when the phone rings. I'm tied up with the grout so Gran picks it up. A moment later I hear her yell:

"Sookie! There is a Ted on the phone for you."

I jump up like a jack rabbit and hurry to the nearest phone as I strip off my yellow gloves. "Hi, this is Sookie."

"Um, h-hi, this is Ted. I think you left a note in my purse…"

I have honestly kind of forgotten about the note, and have no idea what to say. "Yep, that was me. How're you doing?"

"Oh, um, oh I'm okay. Look, I don't know how you're connected to what happened a couple weeks ago, but, I just wanted to thank you. I was, I was really in a bad place… God, how pathetic is this; I'm spilling my guts to a total stranger…"

I jump in right there. "Well, if we met officially, I wouldn't be a stranger, right?"

"No, no I guess not." She sounds shy and hopeful, and also a little scared.

"Well, look, I know you probably don't want to meet at my house, even though I live with my Gran, so it's not like anything bad will happen to you!" She laughs a nervous little laugh. "How about we meet for lunch somewhere between Bon Temps and Shreveport?"

"I- yes, okay. There's an IHOP off of exit 26, that's about half-way." Nice, IHOP, I like this girl already.

"Sounds good to me. Do you want to meet there in, say, an hour?"

"Okay."

We hang up a little awkwardly and I consider this strange new development. I think I may be on my way to making an honest-to-goodness friend. Once Amelia shows up I'm going to have my own little clique! I know I'm getting ahead of myself here, but the fact is that I really liked Ted, and now that I can block people out pretty effectively, I want to try and have more girlfriends.

I look at the clock; I should have just enough time to have a quick shower before I leave.

* * *

Fifty minutes later I'm sitting on the bench outside the IHOP. I feel excited, like it's the first day of school… well, how the first day would have felt if I hadn't heard everyone's thoughts. I start to worry that I'll get stood up, but at exactly one hour and one minute I see her car pull in. "Sorry I'm late!" she says first thing.

Yikes, she really is structure-oriented. I feel bad, but I think I'll have to peek into her head a little along the way just to figure out what's going on with her.

I say: "Don't worry; I don't consider someone late unless they're more that twenty minutes past the set time! My brother is always running at least fifteen behind."

Ted's eyebrows furrow. "Any number of minutes past the agreed upon time is late. Time can't be relative, it's a constant in terms of measurement."

I stop myself from laughing. Ted is almost like a robot in some ways. I hope I can loosen her up. "I guess how people _feel_ about being late can be relative though, right?"

Her face relaxes and she smiles. "Yes! That's true. Thank you for feeling so flexible about my lateness."

I hope I can loosen her up _a lot_.

We sit down and I look at Ted for what feels like the first time. Pam is right, she really is quite beautiful. She lets her slightly wavy shoulder-length hair flow out wherever it wants to go. On some people it would look unkempt, but on her is looks just right, like the wind has just blown through it. It's a warm golden brown color; I don't think I'd give up being a blond, but if I was going to go brunette I would want a color like hers. She has delicate features, with very large deep-hazel eyes surrounded by dark lashes. Her slight frame is hidden in a dress shirt that is two sizes too big; I get the feeling that the only clothes she wears are the dress clothes she has for work.

She's remarkably quick to warm once she gets comfortable. I sneak a peek in her head to find that she's also surprised that she's getting along with me so well, and that she hopes we can be friends. I decide to continue my trend of openness and tell Ted that I am a telepath toward the end of our meal. I ease in to the topic by discussing how strange it is that vampires have come out, and ask if it makes her wonder if there is anything else supernatural out there. She nods, and says she knows there is. This intrigues me, and I push her a little to tell me what she means.

I'm careful not to read her thoughts. It feels like cheating.

"Well, don't freak out or anything, I'm only telling you because you seem so cool with the vampires… but my uncle is a half-demon." I see her visibly brace herself.

"Oh yeah," I say, "I have a full demon lawyer. He's great."

She relaxes at my reaction. We chat for a couple minutes about demons, and she tells me that she used to really like her uncle. When I ask about the "used to" part, she gets quiet and tells me that her whole family ostracized both her uncle and his wife and kids. "Not that that really means anything with my family." She continues. "We don't really talk, or get together… or anything." She takes a sip of water.

"Both my parents, and my whole extended family really, we just, we're all like strangers. I don't really know why. I haven't spoken to my parents in over a year, and that's normal." She rips little pieces off her napkin as she goes on: "They are all really spacey, like me, but they don't even see that there's anything weird about how we all just... how everyone just ignores each other." She shrugs, but I can tell it really bothers her.

I get snatches of images and information from her mind as she talks: Ted is an only child but always wanted brother or spent loads of time all alone in her huge house during her childhood, while her parents were away at conferences. Even when they were home they only talked about current events, science, politics... I get flashes of Ted teaching herself to cook when she was eleven, accidentally burning her hand and then reading up on how to treat it. Her parents not noticing or asking about her self-bandaged palm.

Ted got born into a family where she doesn't fit, and has spent the majority of her life fighting what feels natural, trying to fit into what they have set up as "right." She's practically been bursting to talk to someone, but hasn't known how.

Loneliness is no small thing.

"What about your uncle and his family?" I ask her. "What keeps you from talking to them?"

She shakes her head and eats the last bite of her omelet. "They got cut out when I was thirteen, and I couldn't ask about them. I've tried to look them up, but I haven't been able to find anything." We're silent for a few minutes before she comments: "It's such a shame when people hate others just because they're different or weird."

"I'm kind of weird myself" I say. I double check to see that no waiters are in our abandoned section. "I'm a telepath."

Ted almost chokes on her newest mouthful of water. "Really! Really? Oh wow, that is so amazing! What is your range? How does it work? What are the differences, if any, in demographics? Are there images involved? Can you look for specific information…"

She gets about ten questions out before she notices me waiving my hands. "Lets pay our bill and we can talk about it on the way to the mall." She doesn't seem concerned about me reading her mind at all. All she wants to know is how it works, and if I've ever had CAT scan…

"The mall?" she asks.

"Yeah," I say, "I need a new outfit, and you need some retail therapy."

We take my car, and by the time her seat belt is on she's asked six more questions.

* * *

Note: Aha, I know nothing about science, and even less about math, so if Ted's statement about time/relativity is bogus, just go with it. I read up a bit on Einstein's theory of Relativity in terms of time, and it seems to be contested at least. Idk… I'm no scientist!


	16. Chapter 16

**For those who just want to read the story, feel free to skip the long-winded note on my motivations/writing ideology etc at the end of the chapter.**

* * *

Chapter 16

_Sookie POV_

Ted is exhausting, but fun to be around. She has two such conflicting parts of her personality. On the one hand, she is very pragmatic and rational. Sometimes while we were shopping I would feel like I was with robot Ted (like when I asked her what 25% off of $36.99 was, and she responded in about half a second: "$27.24, well that's if you round to the third decimal."). Then, there were times where she was like how she was once she opened up a little in the IHOP, super excited and open and basically a big ball of energy.

We made plans to go to the mall again next week. Ted was pretty overwhelmed by all the choices in causal-wear, so we decided she should take some time to think of what she wanted her "personal style" to be. I just hope it's not pastels and perfectly coordinated track suits. One Pam is enough.

I wonder if Ted would be interested in helping Bill with his database. From what I understand she's a regular computer wiz; the company she works for recruited her straight out of college and she now makes over 500k a year. I guess it more depends on whether Bill would let a human work with him on his project.

Eric called tonight just after sundown to tell me that he wants me to interview all of his employees on "a matter of great importance," and that he will brief me when I get there. I'm a little annoyed that he's given me such short notice; and I'm even more annoyed that I don't have any plans that he's interrupting. Luckily I found something sexyprofessional to wear at the mall yesterday with Ted. I ended up getting two outfits and a pair of shoes at PayLess. After using my gift card I didn't even have to dip too much into the money I made at Fangtasia a few nights ago.

I didn't have a chance to get anything new before my first "PR" engagement, so I ended up going pretty simple: black dress pants and a black halter with a red cardigan (which I ended up taking off half-way through the night, but I wanted to at least show up looking somewhat professional).

Tonight I decide to wear the cream pencil skirt I just got and a deep-blue silky sleeveless blouse. The top is another halter with a loose bow off to one side at the high neckline, (I figure there isn't any clearer "don't bite me" message than totally covering my neck. I guess there's always a silver necklace, but I figure at this point that's kind of insulting). I smooth out the silky material of the blouse and take a final look in the mirror. My hair is up in a high pony tail, but it's not like the ponies I wear at Merlotte's; I've taken a strip of my hair and wound it around the base, clipping it underneath to make it look chic, and I flat-ironed it to give it a more modern look.

Simple stud earrings and my new cream sling-backs complete the look. It's not the ideal outfit for fighting off Longshadow, but if I can follow my plan I won't have to (it would be such a shame to get blood on my new clothes).

It's six-thirty by the time I get to Fangtasia, but the place is dead (no pun intended). The doors don't usually open until about nine, so there is plenty of time for me to "interview" Eric's employees. I enter around back through the employee entrance. Pam opens the door for me a few seconds after I knock. She nods briefly, and instead of taking me directly to the small interrogation room, she brings me to Eric's office, and leaves without a word. I know she is probably just doing what Eric told her to, but I'm disappointed we don't have a chance to chat.

Eric says "Enter" after Pam goes off and I do. He explains about the money and what I am to listen for with each person. I ask him if he's considered that the embezzler might not be human. As before he seems devoid of emotion at the suggestion, but says he will take it under consideration. I tell him about my plan, and he agrees. Good, I figured that would be the hardest part.

In preparation for my new plan I set out my pen and paper on Eric's desk, and follow him out of the office. Once again I am in the room with Pam, Eric, Longshadow and Bruce. I decided that the best thing to do was to simply re-read everyone just as I had before. Poor Bruce, I feel just as bad for him this time around. I add on to "Not this guy" that he's honest and only wants the money found. I figure it couldn't hurt to put in a good word for him.

I interview Ginger, Belinda and about six other human workers. Each one claims they don't know a thing, and I let them off the hook, saying that each is being truthful. Pam is getting agitated, and Eric seems impatient. Longshadow is relaxed and begins braiding one section of his hair, and then another. After the last human leaves I tell Eric: "None of these humans has done anything."

Eric stretches and says "Very well. You may leave." I sputter, "Hold it, I've been here for an hour and a half. Under my contract I should be paid for that time." Eric shrugs as he moves past me toward the door to the hallway, saying "You have yielded no results; I see no reason to pay for 'nothing.'" He turns to the other vampires in the room. "Pam, Longshadow, please begin preparations for opening."

I push out my bottom lip and follow him out the door and down the hall as he heads into his office. "I know I didn't find the culprit, I was there. That's not the point; you're paying for my _time_, not the outcome."

Eric continues to ignore me and sits down at his desk. I stand there in his office feeling like a fool as my voice begins to get louder. "I came all the way down here with only a last minutes notice, _and_ I just worked my but off!"

Eric is practically yelling now too: "Lower your voice and close the door human! At the very most I will give you pay for half of what you ask; you have done half the job."

I go over to the door and shut it with a little more force than I need to. I continue to rant about how we have a signed contract as I make my way to the desk. Once there I take up the pen, and Eric starts in on a long speech about how humans can never understand the actual issue at hand.

I write down on the paper I set up earlier "It's Longshadow." He nods silently as he continues to berate me. He quickly writes "You are sure?" and I write back a brief explanation of what I came across in Ginger's mind and then Belinda's.

By now I am agreeing to take half of what I am owed, but tell Eric that he will be hearing from my representative shortly. Eric hands me a check for the full amount I am owed, and winks at me.

I smile and prepare to storm out of his office.

I set up with Eric in his office beforehand that if I found any indication that a vampire was responsible for the money being gone that I would say the phrase: "None of these humans has done anything." Emphasis on _humans_. From there Eric would pretend to stiff me payment in order to get us both back into his office alone. In order to account for vamp super-hearing, I'd set up my pen and paper to communicate.

As I make my way down the hall, Eric calls Pam. She quietly asks as I make my way out the exit if it wouldn't be better to follow the contract; he ignores her question completely and tells her to go get Longshadow. I smile as I make my way over to my car. I wish I could see Longshadow get his comeuppance, but this way my clothes aren't mussed and I haven't been attacked. It's a trade-off that's more than fair.

As I turn the key in my car door I hear behind me:

"You are a very clever human, but I did not get to where I am by _not_ listening at doors before meetings that concern me are held."

I whip around and can only gasp as Longshadow wraps his hand around my throat. He grins his manic grin. "I'm going to cut off your air, drag you to my resting place and have my way with you before I go on the run; you pretty, pretty little girl."

* * *

Note:

So, people feel a bit divided on the character of Ted. I was fairly sure there would be some reticence; I myself dislike stories that add in all sorts of new characters who detract from the ones that really matter (in this case Eric and Sookie). I want to make it clear that although Ted does have a place in my story, this is not about to become the 'Sookie and Ted show.'

If I had my way, the entire story would be Eric, Eric, Eric, but at this point he can't be in every chapter! If you look at how much he actually appears in the books it's a pretty conservative amount, and since I'm using them as a template…

I felt it was important for Sookie to want and to make a friend outside of the circle she already has. In book canon, Sookie talks about how it is hard for her to make friends and be close to people; I always saw her as a person who has had solitude foisted upon her. The idea of loneliness is something I am exploring throughout the story, and Ted serves as an arm of that. I feel that neglect, or indifference on the part of parents is just as much an impactful kind of abuse as any other.

I know with notes like these it is easy to read into it as defensive, but I am not trying to stir anything up or complain. I really do want to know if you have constructive criticism, so please don't read this as "all negative comments don't apply because of X." This story is an exploration in a "what if" plot, and also of interaction between Eric and Sookie. Those are my focuses, so if you are looking for Tara or Jason or even Bubba to show up and have an in-depth story-line, I understand, but it's not happening here. Thanks to everyone who expressed their thoughts in a mindful and respectful way. I know I can't please everybody, but I hope this clarifies what I hope to accomplish and where I'm coming from. If this doesn't jive with you, well, feel free to not read it and I wish you all the best.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

_Sookie POV_

I can't scream, I can't breath. All I can do is clumsily pry at the cold vice grip around my neck.

As I claw at his hands, I see the light of the streetlamp glint of my ring. I gurgle out as clearly as I can "Aperio chain." The ring seems to understand, even though it sounds more like "Appprchnn," and suddenly Longshadow is howling in surprise. I string the chain over his hands as best I can. His grip loosens and I quickly gasp in lung-full's of breath while simultaneously wrapping the length of the chain around his hands again, and throwing the extra length toward his neck. It catches loosely, resting on his collarbone, and his face twists in pain. Thank goodness he's so fond of wearing those flimsy vests.

I want to say something badass, like "The tables have turned, bitch!" but before I even have a chance to revel in my victory, I see a stake plunging through Longshadow's chest from behind.

Of course I couldn't be allowed to have the last word, could I?

I'm promptly drenched in Longshadow's blood as he begins to sputter and decompose right in front of me. I even manage to ingest some of his blood (again) when what's left of him falls on top of me, knocking the wind out of me and forcing my mouth open.

Eric pulls the remains off of me and helps me up. "I had forgotten that Longshadow's ancestor's had perfected moving in total silence. Are you harmed?"

I clear my throat, but already feel the soreness receding due to the mouthful of blood I coughed down. "I'm fine. My outfit though…" I look down to see my top and skirt covered in blood. My once cream skirt is a brilliant red. The shoes don't look too bad though; if I can get to the bathroom quickly enough I can probably save them.

Eric eyes my blood-drenched outfit. "I seem to be making a habit of ruining your clothing. I will send replacement garments."

"Oh no you won't; you'd just send me five blouses and six skirts made of mink, or unicorn hair or some other insanely expensive fabric. The shirt was $45.00 and the skirt was $60.00, so just add another $100.00 or so to my next check and we'll be square."

"You are being very unreasonable again Sookie: unicorn hair can't be made into a wearable fabric."

I gasp. I'm about to ask if unicorns are really real, when I see his face. I scowl at his teasing my naiveté, as he doubles over in laughter.

Somehow our roles have switched and it's me helping _him_ back into the club as he recovers from his damn laughing fit.

I have the biggest urge to either punch him or kiss him, but I don't.

I am a professional.

* * *

It takes me until we are at the back entrance to realize that of course, he doesn't really need any support at all, and that he has just been enjoying leaning against me.

I huff and push him away, heading right for the bathroom.

Pam comes in a moment later to see me with my skirt hoisted up, one leg in the sink as I wipe off my shoe.

"You'd do better to take them off you know" She says with a small grin. "Not that I don't like this view."

I roll my eyes. "Good idea; I guess I haven't had as much experience cleaning up blood as you have."

She grins further at my comment. "I can see why Eric finds you so interesting. Give me your shoes." I've already brought my leg down and almost have them off, so I hand them to her. She takes them with her and comes back with shoe cleaner and a rag.

"You keep shoe cleaner here?"

Pam begins quickly and efficiently cleaning the shoes. "Of course. How to you think I stay so polished? Magic?" I have the cutest mental image of Pam at home shining her shoes and ironing her outfits. I guess I figured she just bought new stuff all the time, but then, if you really think about it that would almost be more of a hassle than the up-keep on certain pieces.

I sigh. "Why can't I ever get attacked when I'm wearing ugly old sweatpants?"

Pam lets out the tiniest laugh and says: "You've never worn said sweatpants around vampires."

"True. Eric was just saying how he's responsible for ruining all my clothes." I look down wistfully.

"It's _one_ way to get you out of them."

"Pam!"

She grins again and motions me to follow her. "Come on, I have something you can drive home in."

* * *

Pam has outfitted me in a light tan track suit with white stripes down the sides; I feel like J Lo… five years ago. She keeps trying to convince me to put on a matching headband/sweatband thing, but I tell her that no power on the face of this earth could tempt me. That's when I get to see the closest thing I have ever seen (strike that, the closest thing I could ever imagine) to Pam pouting as a result. I almost cave, but Eric walks in just in time.

Pam glowers at the new resolve that seeing Eric gives me, and storms out.

Eric looks me up and down and says: "You were right to stop her when you did. I know for a fact that she also has matching nail polish, _and_ that there are curlers warming up in the bathroom."

I laugh and say: "You know, I think what Pam really needs is a little dog that she can dress up and fuss over! Plus, it would be one more thing she could match to her outfit and meticulously groom!"

Eric looks thoughtful for a moment. "Perhaps you are right." He shakes his head a second later though, and says "No, even if it would make Pam happy, it is too high a price for the rest of us to pay."

I snort and turn the conversation in a more serious direction: "Are you in any hot water now for killing Longshadow?"

Eric considers this and says: "I will owe his maker, but considering his crime I would say the water is only lukewarm."

He brings his thumb up to the corner of my mouth and flicks away a tiny bit of Longshadow's blood that I missed. "You've ingested vampire blood." I nod. "Yep, when _someone_ staked him, they just let him fall on me." I mean to tease him about it, but immediately he becomes serious.

He looks away and says "I could have considered you more. I was too enraged to do anything but stake him." This is dangerously close to an apology for Eric, or is it? There is something off about his tone.

Eric is usually so good at knowing when I'm joking. Maybe I've gotten too comfortable. Maybe I need to remember that this is not _my_ Eric. I try to explain myself: "I was just kidding; I didn't expect you to come out and stop him."

"Yes, I saw the chain after I rolled him off of you. I suppose you could have done better without my help." He sounds upset in some way, but I can't tell why. I don't think he's mad at me, but his comment seems to imply that he thinks I didn't want his help. I feel a terrible creeping feeling in my chest at the idea that Eric somehow thinks I'm ungrateful, or that I think him incompetent, or, just that something is bothering him.

Mainly it's bothering me that I can't read him at all.

I walk around and duck under his arm so I am facing him again. "I'm sorry; I was just kidding around. Thank you for staking Longshadow. In another minute I'm sure he could have gotten out of the chain and taken me with him like he planned." My hands have found there way to rest on his chest.

He does his refusing-to-look-at-me thing until I mention Longshadow's plan. He looks down and asks: "He was going to take you with him? Not just kill you?"

I shrug and do some looking-away of my own. "He said he wanted me to pass out so he could take me to his hidey-hole and 'have his way with me,' uhg, whatever that meant."

Eric's arms circle around me and he tilts my head up. God, I feel so warm and so comfortable like this. It would be so easy to lean up and kiss him. Gran's words of advice (which I admittedly haven't really given much thought to yet) creep into my mind, and at the last minute as he's almost at my mouth I tilt my head down to rest on his chest above my hands.

I am a fucking professional.

"Sookie."

I Sigh. "Eric."

Eric lifts my chin up and I am about to give him my "no means no" speech again, but he just tilts my face to the side and brushes his lips against my cheek. "I am glad he did not, 'have his way with you' Sookie."

I blow out a long breath. "Why, because _you_ want to have your way with me?"

He chuckles and runs his thumb along my jaw line before turning for the door, leaving me alone in the room to think about his last statement:

"I imagine once you have your fill of being professional, we will have our way with one another, my lover."

* * *

**So, the next couple chapters are being tricky-wicky, and I may need a bit more time with them. Hopefully not more than two days!!!**


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

_Eric POV_

As I leave for my office, I smirk, but the smirk quickly vanishes as I replay the events of the last hour.

When Pam came into my office and told me that the last time she saw Longshadow he was heading out to the parking lot. I knew instantly the error I'd made. I should have been more careful.

I am usually more careful.

It seems like years since I've run at top-speed anywhere, but I was in the parking lot almost instantly, ready to put Longshadow down for his insolence. More than ready.

For a split-second I thought I was too late, that he'd already broken her frail body, but I noticed that she actually appeared fine, if lightly choked, as I drove the stake I always keep in my office through his chest. It is all I could do to _just_stake him. I wanted to rip his head off and bathe in his blood; but somehow I felt that would reduce the chances I had of getting Sookie to kiss me.

Sookie. I have been plagued with dreams about her for weeks that I can never quite remember. It is a very unsettling state of affairs since I almost never dream, and almost always remember everything.

It is a rare thing for a vampire to dream. Strangely they seem to be getting clearer the more time I spend with her. Tonight I awoke with the sensation that my feet were being washed with warm water, and with the inexplicable knowledge that somehow she was the cause. When the dreams first started I could not remember anything; I would only recall that they had occurred. Then, after Sookie came in to Fangtasia a few more times, I would remember her face: smiling, laughing, annoyed, in the throws of passion, in terrible pain. Always I could only remember her face, and now, my feet being washed.

Most unusual.

As I pulled him off her I felt her strong silver chain; she had wrapped it around his hands and shoulders. Every time I see this woman she surprises me. Being surprised is a rare treat, as it happens so infrequently. It is also annoying, since I work so very hard to never be surprised.

Why I am dreaming of her?

Sookie has a keen insight into Pam's eccentricities for someone who has spent so little time around her. I must remember to keep an eye on whether she can read vampires. She claims she can't, but I wonder. She enquired as to my situation with Longshadow. Interesting. Why would she care if I am in "hot water" for killing Longshadow? Shouldn't she be more concerned that she'd almost been abducted, victimized and drained? She did not act as a human who has almost been killed. Maybe the vampire blood is helping her cope?

Somehow I don't think so.

In my blood-lust I'd allowed Longshadow's remains to fall on her. She teased me about it, saying I let it happen. I felt… I am not sure what I felt. Angry, guilty, regretful. Dreaming of her night after night has helped to foster… something within me. Had a vampire corpse fallen on any other human, I would only have laughed. I will have to examine these feelings closely. Tonight my desire for her was at an all-time high, and again she resisted. She is so concerned with maintaining a professional distance. There may also be more to her resistence, but I cannot tell what it is. Despite this I can tell she wants me.

My resolve has never been stronger. I will have her; I smirk again at my parting words. Oh yes, Sookie will be my lover. I am sure of it.

Soon, and not only in my dreams.

* * *

_Sookie POV_

As I drive home I face the fact that I am going to have to figure out this Eric situation, and soon. Not necessarily a "plan" like I've had with everything else; I don't think you can plan around human, let alone vampire emotions.

But it's driving me crazy.

Eric is obviously interested in a physical relationship with me (_no_ _shit Sherlock_ I think to myself). Whatever, I have to run through all the facts. He seems to care that I am comfortable at least, and he and I have a good time when we are together.

I shut my eyes tightly for a moment; what kept us apart for so long in Timeline A is still keeping us apart. No, Bill and I are not together now, nor have we been (and at least to me it has been a fairly long time since we have), but I still feel the pain of his betrayal. How can I be with Eric, not ever knowing how he feels about me; not knowing if it's all a trick or a game?

Ironic that the thing that keeps me from having a relationship with a human is the thing I suddenly _want_ with a vampire. God this would all be so much easier if I could just love Sam. He loves me, we would be happy. I can read him, but his thoughts aren't overpowering. For about two seconds I thought I could have that with Quinn. There's a big mess I won't be getting into again. He _did_ teach me that baggage is not species-deep though. Relationships are going to be complicated no matter what.

The question is: can I handle the massive complications involved with being with Eric?

My immediate answer is that I _want_ to. I can't deny that I want Eric anymore, in every way. I want all of him: his sweet – I'm going to give you things if you like it or not—side, his ruthless way of dealing with his business, his retarded, relentless flirting and surprising jokes, the honorable man I knew with no memory, and even his sneaky, conniving –trick you into getting bonded—self.

The problem with wanting all of Eric, is that I might not get all of him. I don't think I could stand to feel this way about him, and wake up in five years to find he's grown bored, or never really felt the same about me. The blood bond complicates matters further. I _don't_ want a blood bond to anyone, but without it, can he ever feel for me what I feel for him?

Hell, even _with_ the bond I never really understood how he felt about me.

And the curse. The idea of living that week over again with Eric is paradise… but can I let him go through that? It seems like just about the most selfish thing in the world. But then again, without that week… God! So much of what I feel for him came about because of that week. What if it was the same for him? It was a chance for _me_to be totally open with him. What if I do something, or don't do something in this timeline that--

I suddenly realize I've been sitting in the driveway for about ten minutes letting all these thoughts stew.

I'm getting ahead of myself. What I need to do is make short term plans for how I want to deal with Eric, and stick to them. For now, I am acting as a professional telepath. I am going to stick to that for as long as I can. I don't want to do anything I'll regret later. That's what this is, right? A chance to live the past couple years without regrets.

During Gran's big talk she gave me advice, advice that I know I need to heed. I rest my head on the steering wheel and re-play it in my mind:

_"I fell in love with a fairy Sookie. There, I said it. It was the most wonderful thing I have ever felt, and the most horrible. The two of us were from to different worlds, literally. We didn't want the same things; we **couldn't** want the same things. If you both want different things, one of you is going to have to compromise, and get hurt in the process. It's that way with any relationship, but with a man who's not really a man at all; who is something... different: well, you just have to really be sure." _

So there it is. I know Gran's right. I really don't want to be with Eric if he can't lo--; if he can't feel the way I do. I get out of the car and head into the house. My eyes fill with tears as I put my purse down. Getting a thousand year old vampire to want a committed relationship me; great, I might as well set out to win American Idol, lose twenty pounds and climb to the top of Mount Everest… using only my teeth.

I quickly make my way through the entry-way, hoping to slip upstairs unnoticed.

Gran seems to have some sort of sixth sense for when I'm crying though, because she comes out of the sitting room and says she's going to make me some tea. We sit at the kitchen table for a while and talk. I play with my lemon wedge and let the tea get cold. Eventually the conversation turns to Eric.

After I explain the problem, Gran is looking at me like I'm the biggest drama queen in the world. "Sookie, when I said that, it was to make sure _you_ were totally sure that you wanted to be with _him_. Are you telling me that the only thing keeping you two apart is that he has to fall in love with you?"

I nod. It seems even more unlikely when she says it out loud.

She starts cracking up laughing. Seriously, I have never seen Gran laugh this hard. After what seems like hours (and I am getting pretty annoyed by the end), she looks at me and says:

"Oh Sookie, don't you see? That's the easy part."

I start to explain the complications, the bonds, the issues with trust; Gran won't have any of it.

"Sookie, you just spend some time with him, and he'll love you."

I'm actually pissed now. She cannot just toss aside my worries like that. I bang my hand on the table like an angry three year old and say: "Dang it Gran! This isn't some boy in kindergarten who pushed me off the swing! He is NOT going to just magically like me. You make it sound so simple; like… well like a grandmother who thinks her grandchild is the greatest, but you don't see that it's just because you love me already."

Then my Gran does something she has never done. She gently picks up my hand, and gives it a good hard smack.

"Gran!"

"You listen up Sookie! First, you don't talk that sass to me. Second, I am not some blind little bitty with rocks rolling around in her head. You think I don't _see_ you? You think I said all that because I'm your grandmother? I love your brother, but do you see me telling any of this to Jason? No, because he's a dolt who'll be lucky to make it to the end of the month without getting venereal disease.

You Sookie, are special. Not one person in a million could deal with what you deal with, the way you do. This Eric _will_ fall in love with you. Don't you doubt that."

I shake my head and take a gulp of my cold tea.

Heaven help me, but I actually want to believe her.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

_Sookie POV_

After my talk with Gran I decide I'm going to relax, enjoy my time with Eric, and let whatever happens happen. I can't forget that to me, it feels like we already have a developed relationship, but to Eric, we're still practically strangers. Even if he _does_ have feelings for me one day, it isn't going to be any day soon, so I just have to relax.

Right.

I know I'm not going to get into a romantic relationship with him any time soon, but the temptation to jump into a physical one is strong. I'm comfortable with him, we both want it, and I can't stop thinking about it. I actually get distracted by his physicality; mid-sentence I'll trail off and have to give it everything I've got just to keep up with the conversation.

I'm surprised he doesn't think I'm slow.

The idea of jumping into bed with Eric is tempting, but there are a couple issues (to put it mildly). One, which I honestly didn't consider, is Gran. I never had a physical relationship with a man when I lived with Gran before, and the idea of having Eric in my room while she sleeps across the hall is totally mortifying. After her confession about my grandfather I don't exactly think she'll judge, but as I recall sex with Eric wasn't exactly quiet… I've never been to wherever Eric lives, and I doubt he'd take me, so that leaves Fangtasia, probably after getting a check for _working_ there. The idea of that honestly makes me feel sleazy and gross.

Maybe we could rent a room at Bill's.

The other issue is: What that would make Eric and I? Am I a human that works for him, and also sleeps with him? Would we be "dating"? Would he come around like Bill does and spend time with me? I admit I would be pretty hurt if he didn't. Somehow I can't imagine it; like he wouldn't allow himself to have that kind of weakness.

So what? Would we just be having sex? I don't want that. No matter how much I want to have sex with Eric, I don't want _just_ sex. But what else is there for us at this point?

No matter how I look at it I can't make it work. I don't want to sleep with Eric and then _ask_ him to date me (and what would he say?). I don't want to sleep with Eric and have it be a mistake.

I think about the last words Eric spoke to me: "I imagine once you have your fill of being professional, we will have our way with one another, my lover."

That night I was overcome with the lust behind it, and the term "lover," which calls up so many memories.

Now, I'm kind of pissed.

Eric's confidence is something I've always liked about him, but it is also infuriating. He always did that: told me the way things were going to be. Assumed what I wanted without asking. My resolve hardens. I am not going to yield. Eric probably thinks I'll be slobbering all over him by the time the month is out. Well, he's got another thing coming.

Up until now I have felt so on top of the situation with Rene, my scheme to work for the vampires on my terms, and my interaction with Bill. Why not with Eric? He may be a vampire with a thousand years of well-honed self-control, but I am Sookie Stackhouse darn it! I refuse to be seduced. If I am going to be with Eric, it will be on my terms.

What those terms are I am not sure, but I do know that I won't just hop into bed with him, and that I want _my_ Eric, or at least the Eric that somewhat resembles him, at least sometimes. Instantly the fear of the impossibility of ever having my Eric again shoots through me. But I remember how he was in his office that first night at Fangtasia, so like my Eric, but still himself, and I have to hope.

I re-run Gran's pep-talk in my head and feel a little better.

Maybe Gran's right and he'll develop feelings for me; and if he doesn't, well, I will have saved myself a lot of heartache.

Right.

* * *

I get back to considering my "master plan" over the next few days. Stage four: Lafayette's murder, the maenad and Dallas. Or maybe not. Now that I've changed things I have no idea what will happen. I try to logic-it-out as best I can. Lafayette's behavior hasn't changed, so he is probably still planning on going to the party where he gets killed. The supe bars are still doing well, so the maenad should still show up, and Stan will still need help, so I should still get hired-on for Dallas. The changes I've made shouldn't change these things, but you know what they say: a butterfly flaps its wings in China…

I need to do something for Lafayette no matter what. If I can avoid it, it would be nice not to get slashed by that maenad bitch. Dallas is something that I am going to have to think through very very carefully. My head spins with Hugo and Godfrey and all the other drama.

For now, Lafayette takes priority. I know Lafayette, and I know that if I try and tell him that his life-style is too dangerous, he'll only redouble his efforts to prove his right to choose. To be in control of his own life. On the other hand, Lafayette is a survivalist. He respects people that are direct, and don't bullshit. I decide to start my "campaign" today at work.

I corner him out by the dumpster during his break.

"Hey Lafayette." He jumps since he didn't see me coming. "Hey girl, I didn't see you there." Okay, here we go: I take his cigarette out of his hand, throw it on the ground, and put it out with my foot. Yes, it's dramatic, but I need to get his attention; I need him to know I'm not messing around.

He shouldn't be smoking anyway.

"Sookie! What the fuck?! You owe me a--"

I get up in his face. "After today I won't owe you anything, but you will owe me, and that's okay, because I'm not doing this for any reason but to help you. So settle down, and listen up."

I have never spoken this way to Lafayette; to anyone really. It's incredibly empowering. No wonder the vampires do it.

Lafayette looks like he wants to slap me, but stays quiet as I begin: "I know you've heard the rumors about me, and I know you think they're just a bunch of white people making shit up because their lives are too boring. You're part right, but so are those boring white folk. I'm special Lafayette, and sometimes I just know things."

He's looking at me incredulously. Time to prove it to him.

"I know your middle name is Andrew, which you hate. I know you hate it when it rains because it reminds you of one of the few happy memories you have of your father. And I know that you have gotten into a new underground scene lately."

To say that Lafayette looks surprised is like saying Eric looks okay naked. He's speechless, which Lafayette has almost _never_ been.

He is broadcasting really strongly, probably because he's so upset. I get mental flashes from him showing me some of the information I just pulled from him: _A teenage Lafayette trying so desperately hard to look cool, leaning up against the wall of the high school, misunderstood by classmates and teachers alike. _

_A four-year old Lafayette jumping around in huge puddles with his father. Screaming and laughing. A six-year old Lafayette and his drunk father putting cigarettes out on his tiny arms. Screaming and crying._

_The Lafayette I know today, still screaming, in pleasure and pain at the most recent party he attended._

I shake off the wave of emotions I feel at the images I have just seen, and go in for the proverbial kill.

"I know all these things and more. And I know, Lafayette. I _know_, that in the coming days Tom Hardaway and Mike Spencer are going to go too far and beat you to death."

He's advanced from silence to sputtering.

"Now listen here. I care about you, and I am telling you this to help you. I'm not judging you, or telling you what to do. I am just telling you what I know. You can believe me or not."

"This is one sick joke Sookie." He wants it to be a joke. He would rather believe that I have some sick and twisted motive, than face his own mortality. Now I want to slap him.

After a quick evaluation of his thoughts, I see that he's almost convinced.

"Don't you dare consider this a joke Lafayette! I have always considered you a friend, and I have never considered you a fool. Don't prove me wrong."

I go back inside, with plans to evaluate his thoughts over the next few days. He seems convinced. Lafayette isn't sure that I am telling the truth, but he's not sure that I'm not in the right either. That doubt should kick his survival instincts into high gear, and keep him safe.

I feel a bit regretful as I get back to work and he doesn't smile at me in his usual way. I guess the price of 'talking like a vampire' (that is, being rude and saying upsetting horrible things) is having people fear or dislike you. I hope some day Lafayette will consider me his friend again, but even if that day never comes, it will be worth saving his life.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

_Sookie POV_

The day of the Timeline A discovery of Lafayette's body comes and goes, and as the days go by he starts to warm up to me again bit by bit. I read from him that he's stopped going to the parties, and that my little speech inspired him to reevaluate what he was doing with his spare time. He still doubts if what I said was true, but is happy that it helped to set him on his new path (creating an internet erotica/porn site, which is making him five times his salary at Merlotte's).

I don't look too deeply in his mind for what he does on the site. One mental image of him dancing around in a gold thong in front of a webcam is enough to last me a lifetime.

Feeling ever-so-satisfied with the outcome, I sit down in front of the TV for the first time in what feels like weeks and plan to veg-out for the rest of the night.

My plan not to succumb to Eric has been surprisingly easy, since I haven't seen him. Last week I did my first of my two monthly Fangtasia visits, and Eric was absent all night. At the end of my "shift," I went to his office to give my report (Ginger is now actively drinking on the job, and a fangbanger is considering threatening an (unfounded) sexual harassment lawsuit in order to get some money), but he was out. I wrote everything down and also gave a verbal report to Pam, who gave me my check. I wanted to ask where he was, but I was sure Pam would either ignore the question, or say something equally as helpful, like: "He is away on business."

My cell phone rings, and I groan. I'm pretty much just using the cell phone as a way for work (i.e. Eric) to contact me, though I still keep it in my ring in situations where I think I may need it. I set aside my remote control and pick up.

"Hello?"

It's Pam. "Be at Fantasia tonight at ten."

I roll my eyes at her lack of decorum. "I don't have another PR reading for two weeks. Is this another special assignment?"

"Yes, we are in talks with a vampire in Texas who may need your skills. Be here at ten, Sookie."

I smile. The way she says my name _almost_ sounds like "please" if I listen just right. I'll teach Pam good old fashioned Southern manners yet!

"Okay, see you in a few hours. Bye Pam."

She doesn't say goodbye.

As I'm getting ready (maroon wrap-dress and matching flats), I take pause. If tonight is the same night that Eric told me about Stan's need for my services in Timeline A, then tonight is the night the maenad cut up my back. Crap. I had just been counting on not going over there at all on this night. And now I'm driving over there alone, with no Bill to help me.

Double crap; I thought I'd be able to let this just slip by.

What are the chances that the maenad would still target me for a message? I am not as important to Bill as I was, but I am probably more important to Eric, who the "message" was for. I try and think of everything I can to avoid the attack. First it occurs to me to go have my car checked. If my car doesn't break down, she won't be able to get me. Then I remember how the car started working once she left. Right, so she could magically stop my car.

Well, I could call back and say I couldn't come. That would piss everyone off though, and I want to maintain a record of total professionalism.

Several times it has occurred to me to simply come clean and tell _whoever_ that I'm from another timeline, or that I can predict the future, or whatever. What's mainly stopped me has been movie knowledge: when anyone goes to the future in a movie, the number one rule is to not let on that you are from the future. Also, I don't want to be responsible for revealing all that I "know" will happen, especially if it turns out things have changed.

There is no way I can defend myself against the maenad, so what are my options? The idea of letting her hurt me again is horrible, but now that I have the cell phone, I guess I could call Fangtasia afterwards. I shutter. What if nobody picks up, or they can't get to me in time? Crap.

Could I fake that I don't feel well? Probably not, I _just_ spoke to Pam…

Gran calls from downstairs that dinner is ready. I push my fried chicken, mashed potatoes and creamed corn around as I try to think some way around this. By the end of dinner I have a plan, but with so many loop holes that I am distinctly nervous. Gran tries to get me to eat another biscuit as I get up (a few bites of chicken and one biscuit is all I could get down in my worry). I make something up about having had a big lunch. I don't want to worry Gran, and I don't want her to think my work with the vampires is dangerous.

I go upstairs and call Fangtasia. Ginger picks up, her words slightly slurred, and I ask her to get Pam or Eric.

"Pam. Speak."

For once her directness doesn't bother me; it will help me get to the point. I need to tell a little white lie, and I have never been a very good liar.

"Pam, I'm having car trouble. Would it be possible for you guys to come here to tell me about the Texas situation?"

After a brief pause she says: "We will send a car." Crap. Damn logical vampires. "Oh, okay. Um, who exactly are you going to send? Ginger sounds pretty drunk already, and I don't really know anyone there very well…"

These sound like flimsy excuses, even to me. I'll be surprised if Pam doesn't slice them to ribbons.

"You are not usually such a troublesome human Sookie."

I have no response for that.

"I will be there in one hour to get you."

Okay, I can deal with that. "Okay, thank yo--" she hangs up before I can finish. Teaching Pam Southern manners is looking more and more difficult, even in the face of confronting a maenad.

* * *

I sit out on the porch and wait for Pam. I wish they could just come to me, but I guess a vampire meeting with my Gran in the next room baking sugar cookies probably wasn't the most realistic idea.

I really hope I am just freaking out for nothing. We are going to Fangtasia in a different car, at a different time. Maybe the maenad came across us last time be accident.

Right.

The idea that she wanted _me_ specifically is upsetting to say the least. I tuck my legs up under my chair and keep an eye on the road for Pam. At least Pam will be with me. I don't think Pam will do much against the maenad; Eric, Bill and Sam all seemed pretty afraid of her. But she can at least load me back into the car and drive me to Fangtasia to undergo my painful healing.

I wonder if the maenad's poison scratches will hurt more, or less the second time.

Hopefully that's the worst-case scenario. Since I have a better idea of what the maenad wants this time, I want to try to talk to her, let her know that she will get a proper tribute.

Then we all walk away happy and un-slashed.

Okay, so that's the best-case scenario.

I think about it and take my hair down. There, another layer between my back and potential harm. I hope what little blood I got from Longshadow will make me quick enough to turn so she gets my back. Oh god, please don't let her slash my face.

I am driving myself up a wall thinking about this. I wish Pam would get here already. Like magic she pulls up a second later. Hmm, the power of positive thinking. I nod to Pam, hop in, and picture us getting to Fangtasia without incident with all my might.

We drive in silence for ten minutes before I realize I've been totally rude due to my worry about the maenad. "How are you Pam?"

Pam glances at me and then back at the road. "You always ask me that."

"Well, I was raised that it's rude to not ask how people have been when you've been apart for a little while." There, no time like the present to begin lesson #1: Polite Greetings.

"I take it that I am supposed to say 'I am well, or fine,' or some other equally meaningless response back?"

I puff a breath out. "Well, yeah. Or, if something has been bothering you, you can tell me about it. Or if something fun or nice happened to you since I saw you last you could tell me about that…" I trail off.

"Is this something you require, to feel comfortable?"

I contain an eye-roll. "Well, in general people like to feel like you are at least minimally interested in them. I ask you because I like you and want to know what's been going on in your life. It's not a requirement though, if you don't like it."

Pam glances at me again as I say the words "I like you." I don't suppose they're words she hears very often, at least, not from someone other than a drunk, horny fangbanger. She nods and remains silent. Oh well, at least I tried. Pam's cool banter has relaxed me at least. I'm beginning to feel like I was worrying about nothing. We only have twenty-five more minutes until we are in Shreveport, and there's no sign of the maenad.

Pam rolls down the windows, and I feel even more relaxed as the wind blows my hair.

The car begins to lose speed and slowly comes to a stop in the middle of the road. I see Pam raise her head out the window a bit and sniff.

In the same moment a crazed naked woman with long wild hair steps out of the darkness from the side of the road, accompanied by a razor-back pig.

* * *

**Just want to give credit to True Blood for Lafayette's website/gold thong dance in S 1!**

**Gotta love TB Lafayette ;)**


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

_Sookie POV_

Pam's nostrils flare a bit, but otherwise she doesn't move at all. I irrationally think to myself that she looks like a frozen crash-test dummy. The maenad continues her easy walk into the middle of the road, and walks toward the car. She stops about ten paces away from the front bumper. The pig squeals.

Pam gets out of the car and slowly walks around to the front of the car, stopping about as far away from the maenad as she can, with the backs of her knees against the bumper. Pam bows and speaks: "Greetings. It is an honor to meet one such as yourself. We ask permission to pass." It may be stupid, but I can't let Pam be out there alone with that thing. I ease out of my seat and open my door to stand beside the car. I consider staying here, but walk up a bit to stand next to Pam, and just a foot or so behind her. I clumsily bow in an attempt to mimic her movement of respect.

The maenad looks me over and turns back to Pam. I try to get a reading on her, but can only sense a really vague sense of curiosity, tinged with anger.

"I have a message for Eric Northman. You are associates of his?" Pam takes a step forward. "Eric Northman is my master. I will deliver any message you have for him."

Oh no.

"Wait, wait!" I call out in desperation. The maenad pays me no attention and strikes out at Pam. Pam is old, not as old as Eric, and therefore not as powerful, but she is very quick. She dodges the maenad's blow, but just barely.

I do not have a plan for this. What made me think I could reason with a maenad again?

Pam has circled away from the car and is now facing off with the naked woman and her pig. They both stand at the ready on opposing sides of the road.

I scramble between them, standing on the dashed yellow line in the center of the road. My arms are out, palms facing both of them, as if I could physically keep them apart. Pam looks flabbergasted for a second before schooling her face into a blank mask. Though the maenad appears impassive, I can sense that her curiosity is quickly outstripping her anger.

Please let this work.

I turn to face the maenad and bow again, as deep as I can, and speak: "I know you love violence, and I know you feel that you need to send a strong message to Eric." I pause, but she is still just standing there. I take that to mean she is willing to listen. "Please, Eric and everyone who works for him understand that you deserve respect. We will throw a party in tribute to you within one week's time. There will be ample alcohol. The humans may even fight, and will no doubt get to all sorts of fornicating. It will be a night of great excess and revelry; all for you. Will this appease you?"

She eyes me speculatively. "You are not often drunk. You have not enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh. Who are you to speak of what you do not partake in?"

"Erm, well m'am," What can I say to _that_?

"It's, well it's important to have at least one person with their head on straight to plan and organize events of intoxication and… pleasures of the flesh." It's the best I can come up with. Maybe she'll still just mark me. Fine, I can live with that.

"What is your name human?"

"Sookie Stackhouse, m'am."

"I am Callisto. These terms are acceptable to me."

And with that, she's gone.

* * *

Pam walks back to the car without a word. I follow, get in, and buckle up. My heart is racing. That could have gone _so_ wrong. I picture the infinite other ways things could have worked out: Pam slain in the road, or the maenad (Callisto, that's right) killing me, counting on Pam bringing my dead body as the message, or Pam fighting the maenad and starting some kind of war…

My stomach feels like a ball of worms, slowly winding and untangling. It didn't go those ways though. I take a few deep breaths. I'm safe, Pam is unharmed.

Ever since I strayed from my Timeline A actions I've been waiting for the other shoe to drop: for my actions to have some horrible, irrevocable consequence. It seems too perfect, that I should be able to fix things.

It's probably still coming. I shake my head. Enough with the doom and gloom. I can only do the best I can.

I look up from my thoughts to find Pam staring at me. We still haven't moved.

Pam raises her eyebrow and says in an almost friendly voice (so much so that it sounds like she's imitating someone, probably me):

"How are you Sookie?"

How am I? My mind rewinds to our discussion earlier.

I crack up laughing.

After the stressful event that just happened, I can't help it. Trust Pam to start being polite because I demonstrated some level of competency in dealing with a maenad. I'm doubled over in my seat, and tears begin to stream down my face.

I risk a glance at Pam, who looks doubtful (that is to say, her face looks exactly as it always does, but her mouth is turned down slightly at the corners). "This is not the usual reaction" she comments.

I laugh even more. After a solid minute my stomach starts burning, the kind of deep burn you only get from a massive belly-laugh. The worms that formerly seemed to reside in my stomach are totally gone.

I sit up and wipe my face. "I'm fine Pam. Thank you for asking." She looks at me for another second before turning on the car. We go forty over all the way to Fangtasia.

* * *

Pam leads me through the employee entrance at the back of Fangtasia and goes directly to Eric's office. He is sitting at his desk, and stands when we come in. He's wearing a black t-shirt, black leather pants and heavy boots.

"Pam, you are late." He pauses. "What's happened?" His eyes narrow. "What is that smell?"

Pam stands at attention. "On the way here we were intercepted by a maenad. She was in the road with a wild pig. Given their notorious unpredictable behavior and strength, I exited the car and attempted to request passage. The maenad, wished to harm me as a message to you."

Eric lets out a small hiss, and looks Pam up and down quickly, presumably checking for injuries. I can't help but smile. Eric cares for Pam. His face becomes astonished. "Have you bested a maenad Pam? That is unheard of."

Pam continues: "It is still unheard of. I did not engage with it, Sookie stepped between us as we were about to fight and… reasoned with her." Both of them are now looking at me.

Eric looks at me like I'm some kind of alien, fascinated and disbelieving. "Reasoned with her." He repeats Pam's words flatly, with a tiny questioning inflection.

I guess Pam wants me to tell this part, because she's not saying anything and they just keep staring. I throw my hands out to my sides in a weak shrug. "Well, I didn't want her to attack, and I knew that maenad's like wine and parties. Sam Merlotte, my boss, he knows a maenad and, well, they like tributes right? So… so I told her we would have a party for her." I'm babbling. I didn't really think through how to explain how I knew what to say to the maenad. Hopefully the Sam thing sounds believable; if they've done any research they'll know he's a shifter. Plus, it's not even a lie. Sam did gallivant around with Callisto in Timeline A.

Eric's brow raises. "I see. And when is this party happening?"

I cringe. I hope this isn't a big deal: "I told her within a week. But look, I didn't promise anything you couldn't do, just a lot of booze and a bunch of sexed-up people. You could just offer half price drinks for a while and maybe have the vamps dress a little extra skimpy." I think about exactly what I said. "I said it would be in honor of her, but I didn't promise there would be, like, an alter or anything. Maybe there could just be an announcement about 'the great Callisto' or something. The humans won't even know what it means."

Eric nods. He turns to Pam and says: "Go check on things out in the bar; then get a mock-flier ready for the Callisto celebration." Pam does a tiny bow thing and leaves, but as she passes she pauses and says to me: "Thank you Sookie."

I don't know if it's regular manners, or "you've helped me so now I owe you and have to thank you" vampire manners, but either way I'm pleased as punch.

Eric turns to me with a genuine smile. "If you continue to be this helpful, Cataliades will insist on renegotiating your rates."

I try not to seem too pleased at the praise. "Speaking of rates, Pam said there is a vampire in Texas that wants to hire me?"

"Yes, Bill will be going with you as your escort. He is now the Investigator for Area 5." I smile. Bill has been out of town the last few days; he must have been in New Orleans prepping for his new position. Eric looks at my smile and turns away back to his desk.

"I may go to Texas to check on things as well." I smile at that too, remembering Leif, but he still has his back to me. "I have here your contract for working with other vampires. I have negotiated with Mr. Cataliades that the state of Louisiana should retain a small portion of your income as a finders-fee for the job, and in the service of having our Investigator acting as your protection while you are there. It has already been faxed to Texas and signed by the appropriate parties there." He hands me the contract and I look it over. That's reasonable, and it's good to know I can call on Bill to officially protect me if things go south. My eyes widen at the figure at the bottom. Mr. Cataliades _is_ a good negotiator. Contingent on my completing the assignment, I will make over three thousand dollars, after Louisiana's cut.

I will get fifteen hundred no matter the outcome, simply for my time and efforts.

I scoot my chair up to his desk and sign the paperwork. Included are all my requirements and original addendums, ensuring that I won't be controlled or forced into anything. It almost seems wrong, making so much money so quickly. Then I think about all the danger involved, and the disruption to my life. Hmm, yes, the amount seems fair.

He sets the papers aside, and looks at me. "Have you seen Bill lately?" The question seems really out of the blue, but I guess he wants to make sure I will be comfortable traveling with him.

"Oh, yes. He comes around a couple times a week to visit."

Eric's face is blank. "I see. I am surprised that you would want to be so friendly with a vampire who was sent to use and seduce you." His tone is totally neutral, but I can tell that he thinks Bill weaseled out of telling me. Interesting. Is Eric jealous, or just checking up on Bill?

I think to ask: "Is he _still_ visiting me on orders?"

Eric tilts his head to the side and says: "Not that I'm aware of."

I try to think of the situation as it has actually happened in this Timeline. I shrug and tell the truth: "Bill is a good guy. He helps my Gran out a lot and makes her happy. Why wouldn't I want him around? I get that he came here for somewhat less-than-honorable reasons, but he had orders to follow, and nobody got hurt." I don't know what else to say.

Eric just looks at me. I feel really awkward; what is it he's looking for here? Should I have thrown myself on the desk and yelled "I care nothing for Compton, take me now!"? It's not like I said I _want_ Bill, just that I like having him around, which I do. Maybe he's not even jealous; maybe he's just being a moody vampire. I hate that I can't tell what he's thinking. Sometimes I want that damn bond back just to know what the hell is going on.

I stand up, not knowing what else to do. "I'll talk to you in the next few days to plan out itinerary and all that?"

Eric stands and walks around to the door, opening it. "Bill will have all the information; you both leave next Monday."

I've been dismissed.

I don't want to leave yet, but Eric is practically throwing me out. He's not looking at me, just standing by the door waiting for me to go.

I mumble "Okay, thanks," and head for the door, not meeting his eyes. Why do I feel like _I've_ done something wrong? Why does it feel like I'm being stabbed in the heart? Okay, that's really dramatic, but I _do_ have an ache in my chest where I usually have a flutter.

I pass through the door and out into the hall.

I may have imagined it, but I think I feel Eric's hand reach out and brush against the material of my dress as I go by.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

_Eric POV_

This evening did not go according to plan. I was going to tell Sookie about Dallas, she was going to express unease at being accompanied by Bill, at which I would offer to go with her instead.

Instead a maenad attacks Pam; Sookie deals with the situation better than a seasoned supe negotiator, arranges a party at Fangtasia and seems to have no major problem with Bill at all.

This is infuriating. At times I feel like I _know_ Sookie. I can predict how she will act, what she will say; even what she will wear. At other times her motivations and level of understanding are incomprehensible. How can a human with almost no exposure to our world until this point take everything in stride? I still boggle over the fact that when she was attacked by Longshadow she was concerned whether or not _I_ was going to suffer any major consequences.

Me.

Any normal human would be cowering or crying or at the very least pissed, but she is concerned that the incident affected me somehow. That, and she was upset about her clothes. I can't understand her, but I simultaneously feel that I utterly do.

It does not make sense; I am fascinated.

Perhaps her telepathy has given her the capacity to see things more clearly somehow? I suppose being exposed to other's thoughts on a daily basis would enable you to understand multiple viewpoints; to understand new situations more quickly.

She seems to have a certain understanding of everyone she meets. Pam, for example, is very fond of her already. Pam is never fond of people.

I also feel at ease around her. She does not fear me as most humans do. She is intelligent and resourceful. She has amazing breasts. My fangs descend slightly. There is another reason she is so frustrating: she refuses to have sex with me.

I have no doubt that she will, but she has a level of determination that I have rarely ever come across. Dallas was to be my first concerted effort to convince her to be with me. The two of us, in a different city, staying in the same hotel. It's perfect.

Except now there is a signed contract stating that Bill is to protect her at all times. I have no doubt that he'll be more interested in protecting her from _me_ than from potential danger. Bill. I had not anticipated his level of interest. Based on what I have known of him in the past, I assumed that he would leave her alone and continue on his solitary way. Instead I've come to find that he is smarming up to her _grandmother_ and wooing her. It is most nauseating. I can just see him, walking up to her front door in the evenings with a new tie and a quaint bouquet of fresh-picked daisies.

Bill is a fool to think he will have her.

The most ridiculous part of all is my reaction. It is no secret that I abhor not getting my way, but tonight upon not only finding that Sookie would be going to Dallas with Bill, but that she has been seeing him these weeks… I felt like ripping my office apart. For the first time in decades, perhaps even a century or more, I felt out of control.

Sookie has made me loose the control that I prize above all else.

In what I am sure seemed like an abrupt dismissal, I told Sookie that Bill would have whatever further information she would need. I do not plan on throwing them together any more than I have to, but I must take some time to reflect on Sookie, and what I am going to do about her.

Realistically I should push her toward Bill, ignore my attraction to her, and get as far away as possible. What little attachment I currently have for her is already dangerous. Some of the greatest vampires of my time have been brought down by the feelings they develop for humans. Humans are fragile, and can be a great bargaining chip to use against those that care if they live or die.

Despite this I know that I will not give her up. After hundreds of years of boredom, punctuated only occasionally with a battle or political maneuver to entertain, I finally feel excited about something. The past century has been good to me. I have earned steadily and worked my way up to the exact position I want. That contentment has lead me to desire something more; what that was I unaware, until the night Sookie walked into Fangtasia.

And so despite all the detractors and drawbacks, I want her. I want her not only for her lively personality and delicious part-fae blood, but because I am inexplicably drawn to her. My dreams continue to drive this feeling on. They continue only in flashes, but are unrelenting. Every evening I wake up with the sense that I should be with Sookie, but am not.

The more I know of her, the more I want to know her. I am quickly starting to feel addicted to this woman, and an addiction is a weakness.

The only way to overcome my weakness is to own it. To make it mine.

Sookie will be mine.

She will be mine.

_

* * *

_

_Sookie POV_

I shake off Eric's seeming lack of interest and refocus on my plan. Pam had to stay at Fangtasia, so one of the human workers, Dave I think his name is, drove me home.

Thinking about Dallas is giving me a serious headache. There are so many variables to consider, so many chances for things to change from what they were. I'd like to stick to what my tack has been so far and stay as close as possible to my original actions up until the point where they have to change for my safety. That means not going in to The Fellowship of the Sun Center. But how do I claim to know that Farrell is there without going in? I'll have to think on that.

For now I'm doing what I can: shopping.

Shopping has become one of my primary Ted activities. Tedtivities. Little by little I've gotten her to drop the black slacks and dowdy dress shirts for something more "her." Today she's wearing a brown tunic dress with an olive green belt and penny loafers. It's not something I would wear, but it's defiantly her: browns, earth-tones and geek-chic.

I need professional clothes for Dallas, and not the kind of "professional" I wear around Eric. I decide on a fitted black pant-suit, and a navy blazer and navy knee-length skirt. A few blouses and a pair of classic khakis and I'm done. Ted's dualistic personality makes her and erratic shopper, and makes the outfits she puts together a little weird (see loafers with the tunic dress). All at once she wants to be practical, both in terms of design and price, but then she will see something wild that strikes her fancy and get it no matter what.

Even though she usually sticks to browns and tans, she is currently holding up a bright green strapless dress with a full skirt, and bright pink polka dots along the bottom. I ask her if she's going to get it, and she responds: "Oh definitely. It reminds me of an ice cream cone I had once. It was delicious." I let a bemused smile cross my face and head over to look at the shoes (which I don't need, but a girl can look, right?). I find a cute pair of silver and pink flats that would go well with Ted's dress. I'll try to make the best case I can for them, but I have a feeling she'll end up pairing her new find with her loafers.

I still haven't brought up Ted helping with Bill's database. Honestly, I'm not sure if I'm grasping at straws here, but I think Bill and Ted would kind of be a cute couple. Oh my God! "Bill and Ted." _Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure_!

I get the metal picture of MY Bill and Ted in the 1980s movie, and I starting laughing. I don't stop until I get back to Ted in the dressing rooms. I can't even speak, so I just nudge the shoes under the space of her door.

"Sookie? Why are you laughing?"

I don't bother explaining. Ted's pop culture knowledge is pretty limited. Her parents were the kind of people who did flashcards with her before she could say the word 'flashcards.' "Try these on with the dress!" I laugh out through the door. I need to compose myself. Ted is used to not following along with my sense of humor sometimes, but I don't want her to think I'm laughing at her.

Bill and Ted. I almost start to laugh again. Better stick with 'Ted and Bill.' Six months ago I would have said that I didn't want Bill to be with anyone. In Timeline A, even though we hadn't been together, I still felt jealous of Selah, and thought the idea of him with someone else would always be painful.

Somehow being in this timeline has given me perspective on what I really want. Not only do I _not_ want Bill in that way, but I truly do want him to find somebody. Ted is sweet and smart, and she has an intensity to her that's similar to Bill's. Well, like Gran says: "All you can do is put the ingredients in the pot and watch them boil." I think I'll have Ted and Bill over before we go to Dallas and see what boils.

I see Ted's feet wiggle into the shoes under the door. She comes out and does an awkward little spin, proclaiming: "Sold!"

_Me too_, I think, already planning _Bill and Ted's Excellent First Meeting_.

I smile as we head to the register at how much I am branching out. Maybe I should get business cards:

**Sookie Stackhouse**

_Telepath_

_Vampire Issues Investigator_

_Matchmaker Extraordinaire_


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

_Bill POV_

After weeks of pursuing Sookie, my efforts are finally bearing fruit. She has invited me over for drinks (synthetic blood for me, some kind of tea for her I suppose). She called yesterday to say that she needs to finalize our plans, and that I should be by at eight. It is the first time in over a week and a half that she has initiated contact. She had started rebuffing me, saying she was too tired from work, so I pulled back, only visiting on nights I knew she had off.

She remains friendly and hospitable, but continues to keep her distance. Her grandmother is often in the vicinity, and I find myself increasingly desirous that we should not have a chaperone. Every time I suggest a walk, or activity with just the two of us she finds some way to stay in the house. Last week as I left, Sookie was in the kitchen doing dishes, and her _grandmother_ walked me to the door as she simply yelled out a goodbye. I had never felt further from claiming Sookie as my own. As I said goodnight to Adele, I looked past to see if perhaps Sookie would come out of the kitchen.

She did not.

I turned back one last time on the porch to see Adele wink at me. I find I do not understand the Stackhouse women at all.

I am glad I campaigned for the position of Investigator for Area 5; not only will it give me more official clout, but I am now in the position to accompany Sookie on any assignments that may require my presence. Dallas will be the perfect opportunity to show Sookie how I feel.

I knock on the door and school my face into a pleasant smile.

A thin woman in a bright green dress answers. "Oh, hello. You must be Bill. I'm Ted, Sookies' friend." She just nods and keeps ahold of the door.

Ah, Ted, the woman that Sookie has recently become friendly with. I did not anticipate this, but any of Sookie's friends that I can win over will be a boon for my cause. "It is a pleasure to meet you Ted. That is a very unusual name; how did you come by it?"

She blushes faintly, and I find myself fighting not to look at her neck. "My given name is Theodora. Most people just call me Ted because it's easier I suppose."

Theodora. An older woman named Theodora attended the church I belonged to in my human life. I remember her because she struck me as one of the only truly good and decent people in our area: level-headed and resolute.

Sookie calls out for us to join her in the kitchen. She is setting up two iced teas and warming my blood in the microwave. There are also some small cakes set out. I wish Sookie would not eat in front of me; I find the act somewhat offensive. Perhaps I will request she abstain after we have had a chance to connect in Dallas. I enquire as to the well-being of her grandmother.

"Oh Gran's just fine; she's gone over to my brother's to help him go through some old boxes of my parent's stuff that he found."

The microwave beeps and Sookie gets up to get it. "So, we leave the day after tomorrow, right?"

Hmm, down to business. "Yes, the flight is at five pm, so I will be shipped in my coffin." I glance at Theodora. She does not seem to have any reaction to the news that I will travel in a coffin; she appears to be studying the condensation on her iced tea glass. Sookie and I sort out the major details of the trip for fifteen minutes until the conversation seems to be winding down.

"Will you be up when the plane lands? It'll be dark."

"Yes, I should be able to exit my coffin when we arrive. Sundown is sometime around six."

Theodora nods and says: "Yes, sunset the day after tomorrow is 6:26 pm." Both Sookie and I turn to her. She looks up from her glass and sees that we are both looking at her, waiting for why she knows the exact time the sun sets. "Well, it's getting to be the end of summer, so the sun rises and sets about one minute earlier every couple of days. Sunset was at 6:39 pm at the beginning of the month."

Sookie snorts a little. "Why do you _know_ that Ted?"

Her checks flush and she glances at me and Sookie as she tucks her hair behind one ear. "My brain seems to keep track of all sorts of things when I'm not watching it."

I find that I curious. "What else does your mind, ah, keep track of?"

She seems to brighten at the question, and begins to list things off in quick succession: "Oh, different things. Whenever I hear numbers or percentages I calculate them in my head. I tend to count the number of times someone says 'you' verses 'I' in a conversation; people who say 'I' twice as much or more generally don't care about what I have to say at all. Whenever I'm around a computer I can see it in my head and how it works, not just personal computers, but, ones that are responsible for turning an automated sign, or the relay system for ordering fast food. I also subconsciously count how often people blink. It's a good gauge of how uncomfortable they are; but then, some people just have dry eyes…" She stops speaking, and tucks the hair on the other side of her head behind her ear.

This information flows over me. Vampires like to think of themselves as superior in every way. Physically we are stronger, and it is widely recognized by our kind that on the whole we are more observant and intelligent. Theodora certainly casts some doubt on this assumption.

She is now looking at me. "You haven't blinked at all, but I figure that's because you are physiologically different." She smiles and shrugs. "Anyway, sorry to interrupt; I usually just keep these idiosyncrasies to myself, but the information on the sunset seemed pertinent."

Sookie rolls her eyes. "Stop apologizing Ted. I've told you that the things you say are interesting!"

The corner of Ted's mouth goes taught, but otherwise her face remains calm. She shakes her head slightly. "Most people don't think so. Just the other day I was in the grocery store, and the woman behind me gave her toddler a sippy-cup full of a carbonated sugary drink. When she said "He just loves his drinks!" I told her that if she continues to give him "his drinks" over the next few years his risk of having early-onset diabetes would go up 57%, his chances of being obese would go up 38% and his proclivity for unhealthy foods would stay with him into adulthood. She threatened to 'beat the crap out of me.'"

Sookie is now coughing down a sip of iced tea. I see why Sookie likes this woman so much; she seems to find everything she says hilarious. I myself agree with her statements about the sugar drink.

Sookie passes the tea and says: "Well, it's kind of a general rule that you don't talk about people's kids. Even if they are killing them with sugar."

"That's illogical."

Theodora and I say it at the same time.

Sookie says: "Jinx, you owe each other a coke!"

I glance at Theodora to see if she understands this. She appears to be doing the same to me. We exchange a "Sookie doesn't make any sense look."

I am finding I enjoy Theodora's company. She is one of the only humans I have met who seems to value logic over emotionality. Plus, she uses very little slang, which makes her very easy to understand. I think to ask Sookie what a "Jinx you owe me a coke" is, but Ted is already telling another story at Sookie's prompting about a time when she saw a .05% computer error at the bank that nobody would believe her about.

I take a sip of my long-forgotten blood and listen.

* * *

_Ted's POV_

I find myself smiling as Bill leaves. As he stood in the entry-way to say goodbye, he turned to me and said "Goodnight Theodora." Nobody ever calls me that.

I still can't believe sometimes that my life has changed so quickly. Ever since that night I've committed to making a change. I'd been locked up in a prison of my own making for too long. The other day, Cheryl at work complimented my dress and we talked for five minutes.

It was classifiably chatting!

I have never said more than two non-work related words to Cheryl (those being "Hello" and "Goodbye"), but suddenly I felt like this weight had been lifted off of me. Like, a piece of a puzzle has fallen into place. Talking to people, feeling connected, it used to seem so impossible.

But even tonight when I made the mistake of talking about my mental peculiarities, things turned out okay. I talked, _really_ talked to a vampire! I'm glad I wore my new green dress. I always feel so plain next to Sookie. I feel like our friendship is unbalanced sometimes; Sookie is always giving me these pep talks about everything from my interpersonal skills, to my looks. I wish I could be more confident, so she didn't have to keep reassuring me. I don't know, it just doesn't seem real that anyone could really be interested in what I have to say. Could really like me.

How can you feel like people want you when your own family doesn't? They are supposed to be the one group of people that pretty much _have_ to love you.

I shake myself and help Sookie finish washing the stack of dishes in the sink. That's how Old Ted thought; that's the kind of thinking that lead to that night at Fangtasia.

I replay tonight as I dry the dishes. I like Bill. He seems to have almost as hard a time relating to people as I do; but then, he has the excuse of being a vampire.

Vampires are so fascinating. I wonder if he would ever let me examine him? Doctors are still not allowed to run any kinds of tests on vampires. I wonder if a scientific explanation could be found for their animation without blood-flow or heart-beat. How does that work? I was only a semester away from a pre-med degree. Anatomy and physiology are absorbing, but I don't think a medical career is for me after having done some clinical work. Maybe he would agree to a very preliminary exam once I meet him a few more times. Probably not though; he is very reserved.

I suddenly have a mental image of holding a stethoscope up to Bill's bare chest. Very close up. Touching his bare chest.

Oh my.

The plate I'm holding drops into the sink, and I quickly mutter something to Sookie about slippery fingers.

Things have certainly changed.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

_Eric's POV_

I have Pam make up a special invitation for Sookie for the maenad's party. When I told her to do it she practically had an embolism, but I put enough genuine anger behind my growl to get her to scamper off before she could tease me too much.

I am not embarrassed by my pursuit of Sookie, in my mind she is already mine. That said, Pam's derisive teasing can still sometimes push me over the edge after all these years.

Pam is in charge of organizing the whole thing, and she's done a good job. She seems to have followed Sookie's advice and not done anything too outlandish. There are a couple of blood-red banners hanging with large silver "C"s on them, and she has been getting the word out that drinks are 'buy one, get one free.' All the vampires under contract are wearing what would pass in most circles as leather bathing suits. Pam and I are also wearing leather, but as the owners have the distinction of not looking like sleazy whores.

I look down at my leather pants and skin-hugging vest. Okay, maybe we kind of look like whores.

The maenad should be pleased.

Sookie called yesterday to say that she would come, but that she didn't want to stay too late since they'd be leaving for Dallas tomorrow. The thought of her traveling with Bill still irks me, but at least he'll be in his coffin. Hmm, so _convenient_ that it worked out that way.

Fangtasia is packed by ten, but I know the moment Sookie arrives. I feel the tiniest tingle at the base of my spine, and look up to see her walk through the door. It is a moment reminiscent of our first meeting, except now she is returning my gaze. She smiles at me and the wrap she is holding around herself drops away a bit to reveal a skin-tight tube dress. The tingle moves from my spine to my groin.

All I can think when I look at her is _mine, mine, mine_.

She talks to Pam for a while before coming over to my thrown. Before she can get herself a chair I pull her on to my lap. To my delight she does not get up or protest. Excellent.

She slings one arm around my shoulders as if she belongs in my lap. She says merely "Hi."

I can't help but smile at her simple, perfect greeting. "Hi." I say in return. The word sounds so strange on my tongue. I don't know that I have ever said it before. Something of this must show on my face, because she begins to laugh. I find I don't mind; in fact, her laugh is… enjoyable. I mentally roll my eyes at myself and put my own arm around her waist. Having her with me like this, it feels so right. She's so warm. I pull myself back as I realize I am about to nuzzle her neck.

That is not the plan.

I cannot explain it, but I _know_ if I make the first move; if I attempt to control our physical contact too much, she will rebuff me. No, I must only touch her in ways she has touched me. Tease her. Make her want me so badly that when I finally _do_ take her, she will be primed. Ready. Willing.

Her will is the problem. I have lived a thousand years, and I know what motivates people and vampires alike, and somehow I seem to just know Sookie. I must wait.

I gently rub my fingers over her forearm as we discuss this and that, pretending it is casual, unmotivated. I ask how she is feeling about the trip, and we talk about the party, the people around us. We laugh for a good long while as Sookie narrates what some of the humans are thinking. She shakes her head after quoting a particularly desperate young man obsessed with Pam. Mommy issues.

"Oh, I shouldn't be laughing! This is an invasion; it's unfair." She sighs and goes on "We'd all seem like idiots if our every thought was broadcast, especially around people we're attracted to."

I grip her wrist lightly. "Hmm, I do not know that I would sound like an idiot… an extremely talented smut writer perhaps…"

She laughs and wiggles a little in my lap. She has been moderately aroused for quite a while now, and it is starting to make her squirm. Her face lights up as if she's just had an idea. "Hey, do you want to dance?"

It may only be motivated by the need to get off my lap due to her increasing sexual ache, but it is still initiating. Good, progress.

"It would be my pleasure."

I do not pay attention to how long we dance. The music changes, and with each shift I move against her differently. Slow: I hold the entire length of her body against my own and sway. Rhythmic: I smoothly grind against her. Electronica: My hands stay on her hips as she sets the pace. With the upbeat pop I basically just let her flail and bounce around me; there is almost no way to look vampiric and dignified to a Britney Spears song. Several times when I'm sure nobody else is looking, I catch her eye and do some quick imitations of the moves I have seen in music videos from the past two decades.

She almost has a heart attack when I do the leg-kick from Thriller.

* * *

_Sookie's POV_

Tonight was the most fun I have had in a long, long time.

Apart from the memory-loss phase, Eric and I have never really had a chance to hang out. At first I tell myself that I'm going to the party because it is my fault it's being thrown in the first place, and that I told Callisto I'd be there.

I admit to myself that that's a crock of shit when I go to Tara's Togs and buy the smallest, tightest dress I can find. I don't know what's going to happen with Eric and I, but just because I don't want to hop into bed with him does not mean I don't want to look hot, or see spend time with him.

He didn't push things too hard, and I don't really know what to make of that. Oh, he still jokes about having sex with me about every ten minutes, but he didn't make any move to actually make it happen. Uhg, I'm actually feeling a little pouty about that. What's wrong with me?

I get into my car at two in the morning (which is about two hours longer than I wanted to stay), exhausted from dancing and laughing. After tonight it is getting harder to understand why I have to wait… no! Eric has to come to me this time with more than sex.

Even though he doesn't even seem to be offering sex at the moment.

Lord, I can't believe I'm going to be in Dallas this time tomorrow! I need to get home, put my thoughts of Eric away, shower, and go over my plan one more time before morning.

* * *

Morning comes, and before I know it I'm at the airport. I'm nervous as I get on the plane, though not for the same reasons I was during my first trip to Dallas. I'm no longer a first-time flyer (though I guess this is the first time this _body_ has been on a plane), and I'm not terribly concerned that the Texas vampires will mistreat me.

Strike that, I suppose I am afraid of exactly the same thing: the unknown.

I have a loose plan, but this situation is not my small-town life with my friendly neighborhood vamps anymore. Any tiny difference could set Stan off in a different way, or create a new problem I haven't even considered. I just hope what I know from Timeline A can get me through here (err, now) as well. One step at a time. The Fellowship most likely has Stan's place bugged this time, so the creepy priest will no doubt be waiting for me when I get off the plane. This time around I'm going to dive into his head right away, get as much info as I can, and mace the shit out of him as soon as he touches me.

I smile. No means no.

The flight once again is uneventful. I look back on how new everything was for me the first time ("they served me a drink!"). It makes me sad and glad. Sad that I've lost that innocence, glad that I've lost that innocence.

As I wait outside in the heat for Bill to be unloaded, the priest starts to approach. Lord, how did I ever think he was a priest before? He has a mustache for goodness sake!

I dip into his mind to discover that he actually IS an ordained priest, but that he did it through a $25 online course. Creepy. He's from the Fellowship, his name is John, and his job is to lure me through the staff door of the terminal, where a large group is assembled. From there I am to be transferred to a Fellowship-owned warehouse and interrogated.

I get my mace out and ready it as covertly as possible, making sure to palm it in the hand of the arm he doesn't grab. "May I be of service to you? I couldn't help but notice your situation." I look straight ahead, keeping an eye on the plane's cargo as it unloads. Bill's coffin should be coming out any minute.

"No thank you."

A few moments pass before Bill emerges, and his coffin opens. As before John tries to grab me, feigning trying to save me from Bill. "Let me go!" I yell it as loud as I can. I'm not sure if it was my yell that caused Bill to come last time, or the fact that he'd had my blood. If it was the latter, I may be on my own a little longer this time. .com-John starts to drag me, which I take as an invitation to mace the shit out of him.

"Ahhhhhhhh!"

John drops my arm and falls to his knees. I take several steps away from him and toward Bill, who is still in the process of sitting up in his coffin. Bill is there moments later looking at the priest in confusion. "He tried to protect you?" "Not really," I say "lets go talk somewhere more private." Bill corners me in the concourse stairwell. "What happened Sookie? Tell me."

Sheesh, so demanding. I suppose it _is_ a bit more upsetting if you haven't already lived it. "I read the priest's mind. He was from the Fellowship; he was sent here to kidnap me, so I maced him."

Bill looks pretty upset, well, for Bill anyway. "I am sorry I could not accompany you on the plane." He moves to put his arm around me, I guess to comfort me. I slip away up the stairs. "Let's get going before somebody calls the cops." I really do want to get out of the airport as soon as possible. Even with my greater control, being around hundreds of stressed travelers puts a strain on my mental shields. It's like being trapped in a tiny room with dozens of people screaming: _What was the flight number?... Damn it, I forgot my bathing suit!... Why does he always overeat when he knows we are going to be on a plane for six hours?!_

We get to the hotel with little incident. I remember my excitement at seeing Dallas in Timeline A. This time I sit calmly in my seat and go over my plan. Bill asks if I'm alright. "Oh sure, just fine" I respond. I suppose calm and collected Sookie isn't as appealing as wide-eyed country-bumpkin Sookie. Well, too bad. I'm just as much of a professional as Bill.

Barry helps us with our things and I smile at him reassuringly. We'll have a little chat later, but for now he can use all the support he can get to just walk past Bill without fainting. I forgot how unorganized and rudimentary his mental shields were. He really made a lot of progress by Rhodes. I hope this time he can make as informed a choice as possible.

We meet up with Isabel and head up to our rooms (no sharing this time, no sir-ee Bob!). Bill pauses at his door which is next to mine. "I must feed. Lets meet out here again in 30 minutes?" I agree and go in to my room to get settled. It's freeing to not share a room with Bill; it feels like this is really a job I've been hired for, not like I'm some pet brought to do an elaborate trick. I hang up my clothes and set up all my toiletries.

I put my mace in my ring, and touch up my make up. A quick change from my black flats into heels, and change out of my black dress shirt and khakis into the black suit with a cream silk blouse. I have to admit, I look good. With my hair twisted back I almost look as good as any vampire.

When I meet Bill in the hallway he looks at me surprised. "You look very professional Sookie." I smile. "Thanks, that's what I was going for."

Even Isabel looks at me with a few fewer degrees of distaste. Well, I guess the clothes really do make the man… woman. On the car-ride over I find myself wondering if "Leif" will make an appearance. As we arrive at the house and get out, I notice Bill tensing. I remind myself not to take my situation for granted, and to be as calm and respectful as possible. I can't let my guard down, even though by now being around vampires is almost more comfortable than being around most humans.

I take the opportunity to scan the humans I see as we walk through the house. The first time I was here it was so new, and I was so distracted by what I was seeing that I didn't read anybody (not to mention that I used to have more scruples about flitting into people's thoughts). There is nothing much. Some of the humans are horney (I guess I can't blame them, they're getting a steady stream of vampire-sex, unlike _some_ of us), one is concerned about Farrell, most haven't even noticed he's missing.

Stan looks as nerdy as ever. I repress the small feeling of almost-affection I feel when I see him. He does not know me; I have to keep up pretenses. He's refusing to look at me, like I'm some sort of insect. That's alright. What I learned about Stan (and most vampires), is that you have to earn their respect. He tries once again to simply order me around, but I politely stand my ground and ask for the back-story on what I'm looking for.

Maybe it's the suit, or maybe it's that we have a demon-approved contract, but Stan warms to me (that is, stops treating me like gum stuck to his shoe) quicker than he did in Timeline A. Maybe it's just that I'm not giving off any "I'm scared" vibes. _Go professional Sookie!_ a little voice yells in my head. Crap, I almost smiled.

They bring Bethany in, and I feel just terrible for her. I couldn't think of any way to absolutely prevent her murder, so I settle for telling her at the end of our "interview" that she should drive straight to her aunt Maria's after she leaves. That she'll be safe there. Maybe the change in location will save her. I sigh. I interview Re-Bar and the rest, relating all I hear to Stan as I go. I have a strange out of body experience as Stan, Bill and myself piece things together for the second time. Bill goes to use Stan's computer, and I tell Stan about his bartender's extra-curricular illegal activities. On schedule we've discovered that the Fellowship is behind Farrell's disappearance, and that a vampire named Godfrey is somehow involved.

By the time I find the bug, I think I see a bit of grudging respect in Stan's countenance. Hugo comes in to help dispose of the bug (which he planted!). He suggests that the two of us go check out the Fellowship tomorrow, and I agree.

Bill's been watching me like a hawk, but I think my calm demeanor has rubbed off on him.

Stan asks if there have been any visitors to the house, and Isabel confirms that there has been one, from California.

I school my features as Leif comes in. Bill is on edge again in an instant. I set my face into a blank and slightly curious mask as I look Eric over. His outfit does scream Cali (or, at least the impression of California that I have). His jeans are lightly distressed, with a series of accidentally/on purpose holes on the knees. His slightly-western looking button-up also looks worn; a complicated plaid made up of various blues and purples, with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. His hair is tied back in a casual pony tail, and to top it all off, he's wearing flip flops.

Flip flops. How did I not notice that last time?

I remember to chime in about how unlikely it is that Leif planted the bug. Now it's time to diverge from my original actions. In Timeline A I'd had enough, and asked that Bill take me back to the hotel. Stan is still staring Eric down when I interrupt again. I might be afraid at the way his eyes flash if I wasn't about to be really, really useful.

"Excuse me, but I have another important piece of information."

Stan looks away from Eric. "And why did you not reveal it before now?"

I look at the door. "It's sensitive."

Stan addresses Eric. "Leave us. Do not leave the house."

Eric does a small bow and exits. Stan looks me square in the eye. "Speak."

Oh boy, I hope this is the best thing to do. "Hugo, Isabel's human, is in league with the Fellowship. He planted the bug, and the trip to the Fellowship Center tomorrow is a trap."

It is totally silent for over a minute before Stan says: "You are sure? You read his mind?" Yes to the first, no to the second. "I'm sure. Look, I know you can torture it out of him, but it might be… you could probably just look at his phone records or something. He regrets getting involved with vampires, and has become disgusted with everything to do with them, including himself." I pause. "No offense meant, I'm just reiterating his point of view."

"Based on what I have seen of your abilities, we will take action to hold Hugo, and wait to verify this as the truth before enacting punishment."

I remember the punishment he got last time, and can only hope this time is isn't more severe. "Sir, it states in my contract that were applicable, all human transgressors should be put in police custody, or punished in non-torturous, non-lethal methods." Stan glares. "I understand that you do not have adequate proof to hand him over to the police, and that it is not my place to set or enact punishments. I would like to state that Hugo is very confused, and has acted under the distress of extreme emotional conflict. What will you do with him once you have your proof, if you would be willing to tell me?"

For a moment I think he's going to fly off the handle, but then he seems to consider me and says: "I will most likely punish both Isabel and Hugo in some manner that is degrading and horrible, but will not physically violate them. The punishment will last some months." Okay, that sounds like about what happened before. I may not like it, but Hugo messed with vampires, and there is just no helping someone once they've crossed that line.

I feel so much worse for Isabel. All she did was care about the wrong person.

Stan interrupts my musings. "Now that your revelation has disrupted the plan to infiltrate the Fellowship, what do you propose we do?"

I had thought long and hard about this, and propose my idea, careful to appear to be coming up with it on the spot.

Stan nods, and after settling a few more things, he grants me my leave to go prepare for tomorrow.

Bill escorts me back to the hotel. There are still several hours before dawn, and he asks if I would like to "spend some time with him." I thank him, but say I just want to go to bed. Tomorrow is going to be a big day.

Also, I'm half-hoping that Leif will stop by after he leaves Stan's house.

*************************************************************************************************************************************************

**Whew, longest chapter yet! I wasn't going to write the party scene, but it seemed to be in demand ;)**

**Some actual Eric/Sookie (but not a lot, sorry!!!) is coming in a few chapters... stay strong!**


	25. Chapter 25

Note: Small edit made to chapter 24 concerning Bethany.

Thanks to peppermintyrose for mentioning her. For some reason I thought I could write-in what happened to her later, forgot her demise happens early, but is revealed later :$

* * *

Chapter 25

_Sookie POV_

Eric knocks on the door at four in the morning. I rush to the mirror to quickly straighten my hair. I'd been napping for about an hour. I'm in an old sleeveless cotton nightgown with little pink flowers on it. Not exactly sexy or professional, but I figure a girl's gotta catch a break for sleepwear. When I ask through the door who it is, he responds "Leif." As I open it I feel a big smile on my face. It felt so good to be with him at the party after his cool dismissal in his office.

I'm not going to bend over backwards to keep Eric out of whatever mood he was in last week, but I can't help but want to be on good terms with him.

He is still in the same get-up, but his hair is out of the pony-tail. God, I want to run my fingers through it. I look past Eric and am startled to see Bill. He turns to Eric and says: "I told you she would be sleeping. _I _can tell her whatever it is tomorrow."

Eric pays Bill no mind, "May I come in?"

I step aside and officially invite them. What would be happening right now without Bill as a chaperone I wonder?

"I am sorry about this Sookie, Eric has insisted." He looks like a little boy who didn't get the gift he wanted on Christmas morning.

I try to say what I would if this were my first time in Dallas: "What are you doing here Eric? Why are you all of a sudden 'Leif'?"

Eric looks around the room, his eyes coming to rest on my disheveled bed. "It is a persona I adopt when I want to go about unacknowledged. It has not worked however; Stan has recognized me for who I am."

Bill looks shocked. I guess he didn't tell him that part yet. "What? What are the repercussions of this Eric? How could you risk Sookie's life by--"

Eric cuts him off, and I'm glad. Bill's indignation over my safety may have felt good when we were together, but now it's, well, it's a little annoying.

Eric moves past us and takes a sprawling sit-down on the end of my bed. "Stan has deemed my actions those of a _careful_Sheriff, which I am. Overall he is pleased with the progress so far, and has made an offer to hire Sookie on permanently in Texas."

Oh jeez.

"Eric, that is unacceptable, Sookie--"

He interrupts Bill again. "Bill, kindly calm down, or I will ask you to leave."

He turns to me. "I believe he would like you to become his personal telepath."

Yikes, I may feel okay with Stan, but I don't want to be "his" anything. I ask Eric: "What did you say to him?"

"Simply that I would pass along his offer. He does not want to commit anything to writing unless you have expressed interest. At first he asked if Louisiana would 'consider lending the telepath' to him long-term. I reminded him that you are not the state's ward, and that if he wants to hire you, he would need to draw up a contract as we have."

I smile at Eric. Good, at least he gets it. "That's right, I am not an object to be loaned _or_ protected." I look meaningfully at Bill. "Please tell him that I appreciate the offer, but at this time I plan to live in Louisiana full-time. I am open to future short term contracts however."

"Bill has filled me in on what happened after I left the room. Are you ready for tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I'll have to get a few things in the morning, but I think it should be fine."

"We will leave you to your rest then."

Bill looks like he's about to say something, but says only "Goodnight Sookie," and exits the room. He waits with the door open for Eric to follow.

Eric gets up off the bed and slowly makes his way to the door. He pauses as he passes me and runs a finger over the lacey collar of my nightgown.

"I like your nightgown Sookie, it suits you."

I smile wide at the compliment and give him one in return: "I like your flip-flops. They don't really suit you at all."

He laughs and looks down at his feet, which are trisected by one inch strips of bright blue fabric. His hand is now resting on my shoulder.

Bill is still standing in the hallway, irritation slowly creeping onto his face.

Eric smirks. I get the distinct impression that he's toying with Bill. I feel bad, but not bad enough to remove his hand from its resting place.

Eric slides his hand over my collarbone and up to cradle my neck between my ear and the base of my head.

"Eric."

We turn at the name to see Bill on his way back into the room. Eric grins and leans in close to my face. Oh crap, he's taking this further than I thought! Will he kiss me right in front of Bill?

He hovers over my lips for a millisecond, before saying quietly "Goodnight."

He's out of the room in a flash and Bill is now standing a few feet into the room looking pissed.

Eric rolls his eyes dramatically from the hallway and motions with his hand. "Come on Bill, let the poor girl rest." He shakes his head and crosses his arms as if he's been waiting on Bill the whole time.

I almost laugh at Bill's frustration, and Eric's sudden over-the-top impatience. I turn it into a yawn, and Bill does a little bow before storming off.

As I move to close the door behind them, Eric lags behind and winks at me.

* * *

I wake up at eleven and grab a taxi to the nearest Wal-Mart to get my outfit. I have to be a believable church-mouse, but decide to get some basics that I can re-use at least. Wal-Mart has really stepped-up their fashion game: I walk out with a cute brown peasant skirt and a modest pink three-quarter sleeve button-up that actually fits. Lighter pink flats finish the outfit, and I hurry back to the hotel to get changed.

The new plan is pretty simple. I will take some pamphlets about the grace of God over to the Fellowship center and had them out to everyone I see. People who are not part of the church will assume I am with the church, and those who _are_ members I plan to tell I am from a local church that supports their cause. Stan suggested that I bring a petition to sign too, which would require me to lurk around once I'm out of pamphlets. Hugo was brought in briefly so I could deduce how much he'd told the Fellowship. It wasn't much, and luckily the priest should still be out of commission, so nobody at the Fellowship should know what I look like. I'm just thanking the Lord I don't have to wear that wig again.

Stan insisted that I still have a companion from his group, but seems leery now that one so close to him has been revealed as a traitor. He has asked that I look through all the humans that stay in the house after this is all over for an additional fee. I told him it would be my pleasure. At this rate I should be able to re-do the driveway no problem.

For now, Toby, Stan's human will be accompanying me to the church at three pm. I met Toby briefly last night before I left. He's a good guy, and is pretty much living the classic human-who-gets-enamored-with-vampires story. He knows that Stan may not care about him more than a piece of furniture, but likes Stan so much that he doesn't care. I can imagine that Stan doesn't give away much considering his cold, nerdy exterior.

I wonder if Stan does care about Toby. He treats him well, but that's all I was able to pick up on. Toby will be a convincing partner at least. He has sandy blond hair, a nice face, and he's about my age. He's also used living with vampires and following orders, so if things hit the fan he probably won't turn into a blubbering mess.

He also doesn't have plans to betray me and get me killed, so that's a plus.

It's just after twelve noon, so I only have a few hours to talk to Barry. Barry. For this part of the plan I pretty much have "speak from the heart," and that's it. I'm not really sure what to tell him. He seemed content enough to work for Stan in Timeline A, but the only reason he got "outed" was because of me. This time it has to be his choice.

He's leaning against the wall by the elevators when I come down. The Silent Shore Hotel isn't exactly booming during the day, and he's bored out of his mind. He's working a double, and really wants to get home to bed. I have less than three hours now, so the direct approach it is.

_Hi, I'm Sookie Stackhouse, and I'm a telepath. Like you._

Barry's eyes about bug out of his head, and he looks around, finally settling on me.

_Who are you?_

_Well, I told you, I'm Sookie Stackhouse, but I think you're asking if I'm part of some sort of secret telepath society or something? Nope, just me. I'm actually a waitress._

_I guess, what, I never knew there was anyone else…_

_Me either. Telepathy must be pretty rare. You're the first one I've met other than myself._

"Do you want go somewhere and talk?" I ask.

_She's with the vampires, can't trust her, wants to take me somewhere… shit, she can hear what I'm thinking!_

_Look, we don't have to go anywhere. We can just stand here and think to one another. I just want to help you; here, try to read my thoughts._

"It's not a trick, I swear!" I smile and try to look reassuring. I can feel a sort of nudging at the mental shields I put up to block Barry.

_There, see that? I shielded my mind from you. I can teach you how to do it too. You can do enough, but, let me guess, you can't be in big crowds? And sometimes, there's people you can't help but hear, like they're screaming at you?_

Barry nods slowly.

"I'm meeting someone at three, but I can show you the basics, and answer any questions you have… I really just want to help you. Go ahead and look." Talking to him seems to be better than thinking to him, more normal.

I feel the nudging again, but let him in, showing him why I'm here, how I feel about helping him, my every-day life with Gran. This seems to calm him down the most, seeing me hang laundry, wait tables and laugh with my grandmother.

"I have a lot of questions." Barry sounds more excited now, abet a little distrustful, and we find a quiet corner to get down to it.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

_Sookie POV_

Before I know it it's almost three, and I leave Barry with a hug.

He really is a sweet guy, and I feel confident that whatever he chooses to do, he can now do with full knowledge and understanding. I told him about myself, and my struggle to control my abilities, as well as what it has been like to work with vampires.

I stressed that it was dangerous, unpredictable work, and that you really need a good contract. I told him Mr. Cataliades' number, but I think he plans to keep his powers on the down low for a little while. I didn't want to scare him off working for Stan, but I don't want him to feel like a pawn or a puppet either. Even in our short time working together today his shields improved a lot, so I feel like I've done the best I can by Barry the bellboy.

I go back to my room to change. Even though we are just standing in the parking lot, I want to keep my mace at the ready. I can't decide if it's better to keep it in my purse or in my ring. I'd have easier access with the ring, but I won't have to say the "magic words" to get it out of my purse.

Something's been bothering me ever since Longshadow's attack. Even though I pretty much choked-out something that vaguely sounded like "aperio chain," it certainly wasn't the actual words. I put the mace in the ring, and hum the words on a whim, just to see if it will work.

It does.

What? I shake my head, that's weird. I put the mace back and think. So, if it's not responding to the actual words, is it even sound at all? I think as hard as I can at the ring: _aperio chain_. The chain is in my hand.

Well, this would have been nice to know! Why would nose-wipe have told me I had to _say_ it, when it obviously works to think it? I suppose it would be awkward if I accidentally thought 'aperio stun-gun' when I didn't really want it. I look down at my hands, but the stun-gun doesn't appear. I focus: _aperio stun-gun_. It appears in my hand.

Well la de da, the ring seems to know if I _really_ want an item or not.

I glance at the clock. Crap! It's three. I hastily stow my items back in my ring and hurry down stairs. I'll have to think about this some more later when I'm not in the middle of a covert vampire mission.

Toby looks very clean-cut in a pair of khakis, a white button down and deep red tie. Whereas last night he had what looked like carefully coiffed bed-head, his hair is now combed and parted neatly on the side. I smile at him as we make our way out to the car. He's a little nervous, and is anxious to please Stan.

My hair is pined into a low bun at the base of my neck, which I wish was higher as we set out into the Dallas heat. Toby has the flyers and the petition. I look them over; they're really convincing. The mission statement at the top is fervently anti-vamp, and the leaflets have a couple quotes from the Bible and a graphic of two hands praying. The petition already has about thirty-five signatures of all types.

Toby gets behind the wheel and gets the AC going, then turns to me and says: "Okay, so we're just walking around the area of the Center, asking people to join the fight against vamps, and asking them to sign."

"Right. You may have to do most of the talking, because I'll be reading people's thoughts to see if they know anything about Farrell or the blond vampire's whereabouts."

He nods, looking determined. "That won't be a problem. My parents have shouted so much anti-vamp stuff at me that I'm pretty sure I could say it in my sleep. You really read people's thoughts?"

"Yeah, but don't worry, I tend to stay out unless there is dire need, like today."

We make small talk on the way to the Center, and begin walking around the block, handing information to various passers by. Soon we are in the parking lot, and we strike up a conversation with a small older lady who just arrived ridiculously early for the lock-in. I read from her that she doesn't really care one wit about this vampire stuff, but it gives her a chance to get out of the house; makes her feel important.

I wonder how many members of the Fellowship attend for that very same reason.

She doesn't know anything, but I tell Toby she heard a rumor that they are keeping a vampire locked up to meet the sun to bolster his spirits. It seems to work and he continues to hand out flyers with enthusiasm.

I had hoped to actually come across someone with information, so I didn't have to basically make up reading it off of someone. It would be a pretty big risk as well. What if they moved Farrell, or made some change I don't know about?

My worries are stymied when Sarah Newlin walks out to greet us.

"Hi there. My name is Sarah Newlin, and I've heard from a couple of our members that y'all are spreading the good word of God out in our parking lot!" I think her huge smile makes her look like a nutcase, but do my best to appear pleased to meet her.

Toby does the talking as per our arrangement, and Sarah seems pleased by this, thinking I'm a good modest woman who knows when to have a man handle things. Sarah _does_ in fact know all about Farrell and Godfrey, and all the other depraved crap going on down in the Fellowship's basement.

I find that they are keeping Farrell in the same place, with the same basic security.

She signs the petition, and asks us to come in. I tell her it's tempting (yeah, about as tempting as jumping into a pit of snakes), but that we need to stay out here for at least another hour to get more signatures.

"Well, we're havin' an old fashioned lock-in a bit later to spread the word of God's light. Promise me you'll come back for it. I know we are always looking for new congregations to ally ourselves with."

Toby smiles and thanks her, and I'm about to tell him we've got what we came for when I spot Luna across the lot walking to her car. Crap, I should warn her. I motion for Toby to help me intercept her. We catch up to her as she's locking her car back up. Toby begins with his spiel, but there's no use forming a pretense I'm just going to break, so I interrupt him.

"Luna, right?"

She looks immediately suspicious, so I push on: "Listen, there's no time to explain this as well as I should, but I'm a telepath, and I know you're a shapeshifter." Toby's eyes get a little wider, but he takes this statement in stride.

Her mouth drops open and she takes a step back.

"Don't worry, we're on the same side, kind of. I know you're working to take down the Fellowship from the inside, but I'm warning you to get out, at least for the night."

"Why?"

"The Fellowship is keeping a member of the local vampire community hostage, and plans to kill him. The vampires will be here later tonight to collect him. Nobody wants innocent people to die, but the less people here tonight, the better."

"Shit, wait, how can I believe what you're saying?"

"You can believe what you want; I'm just giving you a heads up so you don't get caught in this mess."

She considers this for a moment. "So what, you're going to let Godfrey loose? Do you have _any_ idea what he's done?"

The suns going down and I want to get back to make my report. "Look, we just want the vampire they captured. We'll leave Godfrey behind. If he really does want to meet the sun, I have a feeling that nobody at this point is going to convince him to do otherwise."

She grimaces and nods. "Okay, fine." She pulls out her cell phone and starts to get back in her car. "Thanks… what's your name?"

"Sookie Stackhouse."

"Thanks Sookie."

She drives off and Toby and I head back to our car. He pauses before he turns on the engine. "Shapeshifter?"

I shake my head. "Don't ask. Anyway, we have everything we need. I know where Farrell is, and I know what the Fellowship has planned."

I know it's wrong, but after listening all day, I slip into Toby's head out of habit. He's excited things went so well, and hopes we can get Farrell back without any problems. He knows how stressed Stan has been about this whole thing, and his mind wanders to the first time they met. It's actually pretty cute. Toby was working retail in the store where Stan buys his clothes. One peculiarity about Stan is that he is very conscious of his "look," and carefully buys all of his clothes himself.

Toby helped him pick out several pieces, and (in Toby's mind) they hit it off. Toby's whole family has cut ties with him, but he feels like it's all worth it when Stan wears the clothes they picked out together. I look out the window and leave Toby to his musings. I really wish I knew how Stan feels about Toby. It just breaks my heart to think of Toby wasting away after him.

Maybe it hits a little too close to home.

We get to the house about fifteen minutes before sundown. Stan must be pretty old, because he's already up and waiting in the windowless part of the house. I probably should have waited until Eric or Bill could get here, but I figure I'm safe enough.

I give my report to Stan, and make sure to include how helpful and supportive Toby was. He practically beams at me.

I mention Luna, but don't give away much more than her name and that she's a shifter (not that I know that much more). I tell Stan that if he wants to keep a low profile in the supe world and the human world, he should aim only to get Farrell out, not murder anyone. Regretfully that probably means Gabe will make it out alive, but I've decided on trying to shed as little blood as possible this go around, even if they deserve it.

Stan says that he sees the logic in this approach, and does not seem offended at all by having me suggest it. I hope he's not just humoring me.

Thirty minutes later the rest of the vampires are up, and they prepare to raid the Fellowship. Eric and Bill are nowhere to be found, so I decide to head back to the hotel and wait for word there. Two hours later Bill knocks on my door and let's me know that they were successful (the Texas vamps called him after sundown to join them at the Center); Farrell is safe, and there were no human fatalities. He looks surprised when I ask about Godfrey, but tells me that they lost him. Once again he ran off into the night. Bill says he has completed arrangements for a midnight flight tomorrow. I realize with a jolt that if our flight leaves at midnight, I won't be able to check if Godfrey meets the sun. I ask Bill if it would be possible for me to have a flight in the morning. He looks as if he wants to question me about it, but then just nods.

Okay, that should be fine, I can read the rest of Stan's humans tomorrow night and check on Godfrey in the morning.

There is also the little matter of the Fellowship's attack, which I have yet to deal with.

Dang it. I sigh as I realize that I'm going to have to go back to tell Stan about it tonight; I forgot to mention it in my report before I was so focused on the matter at hand. Things are getting so complicated; it's hard to keep everything in mind all at once.

* * *

Stan looks up when I enter the room, surprised to see me. Toby is there too; they look surprisingly domestic, sitting on a small sofa and watching TV. Stan gets up and looks questioningly at Joseph. Joseph says "She said it was really important."

"Miss Stackhouse."

I can tell that's all the greeting I'm going to get. Well, it beats most of Pam's greetings by a mile. "I'm sorry to interrupt your evening, but I remembered something important that I heard today that I forgot to report."

Stan turns off the TV, which was already on mute. "Tell me."

I steel myself. "The Fellowship, when challenged has plans to hit those that have gone against them with a full-force attack. I think they will attempt such an attack on you all. Possibly as soon as tomorrow."

"Is this something you heard, or something you _think_?"

Oh lord, here's where I have to lie. I keep my voice calm, but not too calm. "It, it's a protocol they have, all I heard was that it exists, but breaking in, and taking their prisoner seems like a pretty big deal. At the very least I would suggest you get a group to patrol around the building, and keep a low profile for a little bit."

"We were going to have a party tomorrow night. To celebrate."

The memory of Trudi shot down, covered in blood jumps to the forefront of my mind. "Well, I'm not going to tell you how to run your business, but putting it off for a couple days may not be a bad idea."

Stan nods. "Erring on the side of caution seems reasonable."

"I also wanted to let you know that I can read the rest of the humans in the house tomorrow night."

I hope Stan heeds my warnings and stays vigilant. At the very least it looks like the party is off, so if the Fellowship does still attack, the number of people here will be drastically reduced. I can't seem to remember what time the attack took place. I look up to see that Stan is looking at me as if to say _anything else_?

"I suppose that's it."

"Very well. See you tomorrow night."

I hear briefly from Toby's mind that he's glad I'm not a guy, or he'd be majorly worried about competition.

As I leave Stan sits back down on the sofa. Out of the corner of my eye I can just see as he turns the TV back on, that he takes Toby's hand in his.

My heart swells, and I know that even if I was Brad Pitt, Toby wouldn't have anything to worry about.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

_Sookie POV_

I wake up late, and take some time to relax. I read for a while, and then go down to the pool for a swim. I wonder if vampires would like to swim? Mmm, midnight skinny-dipping with Eric. I snort water into my nose, which burns and tingles. Nope… the chlorine would probably bother their heightened senses.

By the time I'm back in my room and showered, it's almost five. Even though things have gone well so far, I'm eager to get back home. I miss Gran, and working at Merlotte's and being around my own familiar things.

I go down to the lobby, hoping to see Barry, but then I remember that he doesn't work today. I ask the front desk girl for some delivery menus, and head back up to my room. I don't want to get to Stan's too early, because I estimate that reading all his humans will only take an hour, and I want to try to be there around the time the Fellowship could potentially attack. If for some reason Stan doesn't follow my advice about security, at least I can be there to warn everyone.

After ordering and eating my food and watching some mindless TV, I start to feel restless. I've been alone all day, and I am bored, and well, lonely. The sun has been down for over an hour now; I wonder where Eric is? I think about him and feel a little pang in my chest, and realize that I miss him.

I shake my head. How stupid, I just saw him last night; no, this morning.

There's a knock on my door I jump up to open it.

Only to find Bill on the other side.

"Oh, hi Bill." I try; I really try to not seem disappointed to see him. Things are so awkward with Bill. He enters and says: "Sookie, I need to talk to you about Eric."

Oh boy; I think things are about to become a lot more awkward.

"His actions on this trip have been ill-advised. He does not even _need_ to be here, yet he insisted on coming. He has been caught trying to deceive Stan, and his behavior last night was… unprofessional."

My face starts to get hot. "What exactly are you saying here Bill?"

"I—Sookie, I must warn you that Eric is very smart, and very calculating, and that he—I don't want to see you get hurt."

I do not even know where to start. "Bill, as I understand it, you are here to protect me, not my feelings. Not to mention that _you_ were initially sent after me!" I don't want to keep throwing that in his face, but come on! "I consider you my friend, but you have to accept that _I_ am in charge of what happens between Eric and myself, not you."

His eyes flash. "So, there _is_ something happening between you and Eric?"

I grit my teeth, and have half a mind to rescind his invitation. "I don't have any more answers for you now than I did before Bill, and even if I did, I don't know that I would tell you them. I don't, I don't want to see you hurt either…" _Oh God, here it is_ "If I was to be totally honest with you and myself, I would say that I have feelings of friendship for you, and… feelings for Eric. Feelings not of the friend variety."

Suddenly all my anger has turned to a bittersweet pity. Bill looks shocked, and hurt, and a little angry.

"How can you—Sookie, you do not even _know_ Eric."

I interrupt him. "Bill, this is not a debate. This is how I feel. I'm so sorry that it doesn't make sense to you. I doesn't even make total sense to me either." I want to say 'I hope we can still be friends,' but its so cliché, and well, I hope Bill already knows that I want him to be my friend.

He stands there silently for a few minutes before saying in a low voice: "If that is the way you feel, I will of course concede you to Eric."

The choice of "concede" irks me, but I figure now is not the time to knit-pick over diction.

"Are you going over to Stan's now? I told him I'd be there tonight to read his humans."

All he says is "Yes" and walks out the room. I'm not sure if he wants me to follow.

Yep. Definitely more awkward.

* * *

Things at Stan's are pretty quiet. I do a mental tally and find that there are eleven vampires in the house and nine humans (not counting me). That is a great reduction from the dozens that were packed into the house for the party in Timeline A. Two vampires, a beautiful female with long dreds and traditional African garb and a pale David Bowie look-a-like are leaving as I enter. I track their lack-of-thoughts-blankness and find that they are circling the house and moving across the property.

I let myself huff out a relieved breath. There are vampire patrols running like I suggested; the Fellowship shouldn't get close enough to fire a single shot.

I'm taken to Stan, where he is sitting with a nervous-looking blond girl. I look at her and find myself surprised that she hangs around with vampires; she looks like she just stepped of the cover of "Pollyanna." I smooth my slightly Victorian grey blouse, realizing that the same could probably be said of me.

Stan actually nods in greeting to me, before saying "This is the first one I would like you to read. There are seven more." I do a little mental math and realize that Stan must not be having me read Toby. I just nod and get down to business. The blond, Sarah, is nice enough, and is mainly just at Stan's because her boyfriend started hanging around here about six months ago. She was pretty unhappy at first; just coming along because she was afraid she'd loose him. Now she's more than comfortable, and actually has a crush on not one, but two of the vampires!

I tell Stan that she doesn't have any ill-will or troubled thoughts. Just as she's about to leave I catch that she's recently become friendly with Bethany.

As casually as I can I ask "So, have you heard from Bethany lately?"

She's in a good mood, having been given the seal of approval. "Oh yeah, actually, she text me last night that she might be staying up at her family's for a while. It sucks; she was like, the only friend I had in the scene." She says "scene" like she's a member of U2, the CIA and the Royal family all rolled into one. She flashes a smile at Stan and says "I guess it's not for everyone." She shrugs and I don't ask anything more.

Everyone else checks out fine. One guy, Lars, is having major financial troubles, and knows a guy who knows a guy who deals vamp blood. He really doesn't want anything to do with it, but is getting desperate. I read that he is planning on moving back home to Cleveland though, and that the vamp blood idea is just a fleeting thought.

I tell Stan after he leaves the room that he is having a hard time with money, and that he will be moving away. Apparently Lars is a favorite of Odabi, the vampire with the dreds. Stan will tell her about it and let her decide if she will take steps to let Lars stay.

I hope those "steps" are just a loan or something.

By the last one I am getting a little headache, and ask if there is any pain reliever in the house. Toby gets me some and sits on the sofa in the living room chatting with me for a while.

Eric enters, and surveys the room a little while later. I'm still sitting on the sofa with Toby. There are a couple humans milling around in the living room and kitchen, and most of the vampires are in various other parts of the house. Bill went off to feed on Sarah about fifteen minutes ago. I don't know if he was trying to make me jealous, or if he was just hungry.

Somehow I doubt his choice of a busty blond is coincidental.

Eric comes to sit down on my other side as Toby continues to babble on about how crazy the Fellowship is. There really wasn't enough room on my other side to sit down, and he ends up half-sitting on me. I laugh a little and move out from under him. Eric keeps his gaze just over Toby's shoulder, and after about a minute he gets the hint.

"Erm, I'm just going to go get some food together for everyone."

We watch him walk out of sight into the kitchen and I elbow Eric playfully. "You were rude to Toby!"

Eric scoffs. "I was not rude; I was intimidating. There's a difference."

I'm about to reply when Bill walks down the stairs, holding onto Sarah's arm to keep her upright. She is looking at him with moon-eyes. Score crush #3 for Sarah.

Sarah turns to Bill and says "I'm gonna go get a popsicle. Be right back."

I turn a little and smile at Bill's indifference. Not only is she barking up the wrong tree if she thinks Bill is interested, but eating in front of him is definitely not going to help things.

Suddenly there is a loud commotion outside, and Joseph yells excitedly as he passes through the room that over fifteen humans have been apprehended outside with automatic weapons. Both Eric and Bill jump up. Bill races out after Joseph, but Eric just looks after them and sits back down.

I don't want to think about the bloody scene that is happening outside, and just sit back and rest my head on Eric's shoulder. It really has been a long couple of days.

Eric puts his arm around me and we just sit like that for a long while. Finally it's silent outside. Bill comes in looking like he participated in a blood orgy, and I briefly make eye contact with him. He looks angry for a moment, and then ashamed before going upstairs. I have all sorts of conflicting feelings about Bill. Not about how I feel about him, but about how he must be feeling: Rejected, angry negligent. I want to let him know that I understand why he had to run out there. The blood-lust is too strong for him right now. I don't know how he reads my small reassuring smile, but it is all I can give him.

I sigh and burrow my head into Eric's neck. I wish I was going on their midnight flight tonight. I am so ready for this all to be over.

_Kill them all. Kill them all. Kill them all._

Oh no.

I have just enough time to scream "Eric!" before the crazed gun-toting human rushes into the room and lets off several rounds. Eric is holding me tight, but we are still sitting on the sofa, out in the open.

Damn, I wasn't even listening.

In all the commotion I guess Stan's people didn't catch this one nut-job. A nut-job who is currently getting his neck ripped out right in front of me by two vampires who rushed into the room. He looks like a blood fountain.

I can only vaguely feel nauseated at the sight before something else catches my attention.

I look down, and see a pool of dark red start to spread over my blouse.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

_Sookie POV_

Oh shit.

I ease away from Eric, carefully pulling my shirt up to examine the wound, bracing myself against the pain.

Only, there's no pain.

My stomach is totally unmarked, except for a blood-smear that has soaked through my shirt. I look over at Eric to see that the blood that I thought was mine is actually his. His red spot is a little bigger, but I can tell that the blood-flow is slowing, and that he's already healing.

Something primal rears up in me, and I need to be kissing Eric. Now.

That's not hard to accomplish, since we are still pretty closely entwined. I pull him close and do what I have been wanting to for so, so long. I don't think about why, or my plan, or how if Eric had sat down on the other side of me I might be dead. At first it's just mindless; crushing my mouth over his, franticly stroking his tongue with my own.

Slowly I calm down enough to leisurely suck on his lower lip, twining my fingers in his hair. As though it is a monumental feat, he pulls his head away from mine. His eyes are bright with pleasure, and something else.

"Sookie, quickly, you must suck the bullet out."

"Suck it out?" I repeat dumbly. That's right, Eric tricked me…

"Yes, it will heal over and stay inside me otherwise."

_Eric is trying to trick me into drinking his blood _my brain narrates. My lust, my gratitude and whatever other feelings I have for Eric get pushed aside and I am blinded momentarily with rage. I will _not_ be controlled. I will not ingest _one drop of blood_ on these terms.

I swallow my anger, and smile. No sir, I won't be tricked this time.

"Sookie, please." His tone is serious, and would be really convincing if I didn't already know the score.

I can tell he is trying to rush me. No doubt because the bullet will just pop out on its own given a little more time. Luckily, I can think of a really good way to buy myself that time.

I lean in to kiss him again. Slowly biting and teasing his lips. I can tell he wants to protest, ask me to suck out the bullet again, but I don't let up. If ever I needed proof of my sexual power over Eric, this is it. He can't seem to make me stop, even to get something he really wants: his blood inside me. Soon we are making out like teenagers again, and I find my way to his lap, straddling him. I grind down on him, just a little, swiveling my hips in a small circle.

Just as I complete the circle, I feel something small drop into the groove created by my thigh against his lower abdomen. I pull away a bit and carefully reach down to pick up the bullet.

My face and tone take on an ironic seriousness. "Well, would you look at that? The bullet just came out all on its own."

Eric's face goes blank, showing nothing, but I've totally caught him and he knows it.

I take the bullet and wipe the residual blood off onto his shirt, and put it in my pocket. I lean it to his face again, but this time it isn't to kiss him. Eric does not respond well to threats, and he doesn't like intimidation, but he needs to understand my complete seriousness. I'm only a few inches from his face now, and bring my hands back up to his hair to angle his head so that we are on the same level looking eye to eye.

"Don't ever, ever, try to trick me into drinking your blood again." I don't even recognize my voice. If it didn't sound like such a stupid description, I would say that I sound dangerous. Eric tenses under me and all around me. He looks like he's about to loose it. His teeth are bared, and he's gripping the sofa on either side of himself.

I'm not going to lie. I'm a little scared. I'm also incredibly turned on, and I know that I can't just leave it at that. I have more I need to say.

In order to say it, that is, in order to keep him from storming away (or worse), I need to do some serious damage control: I lean in and carefully run my tongue over his lips, slowly tracing his exposed fangs (without so much practice kissing vampires I probably would have cut myself. Let him chalk it up to natural talent). He still looks pissed, but now he mainly looks confused and aroused.

I kiss down along his jaw, past his ear and lightly over his neck. I tongue the place where his pulse would be if he were human. "Eric" I whisper, in what I want to be a seductive voice. It mainly sounds desperately horny, but I guess that will have to do. "Eric, _if and when_ I do have your blood…" I leisurely bite at his neck; at first as softly as I can, gradually increasing the pressure until I am right on the precipice of breaking his skin. I am one tiny movement away from letting his blood flow into my mouth.

He lets out a deep guttural moan that practically shakes the whole sofa.

I ease off his neck, no longer biting at all. I hover, letting my breath hit his neck as I speak: "If and when I do have your blood, it will be because I _want_ to." I kiss lightly back along his jaw up to and face, meeting his eyes. "It will be because I want _you_; because I want all of you inside me. Not because of a trick or a game." I move his hair aside and place one final peck on his neck where I almost bit him, and sit back.

"Sookie."

That's all he says. We sit there for a whole minute, just looking at each other. I have no idea what he's thinking, but I think he's gotten the message. He slowing runs his hands over my back, and I settle into him, switching positions so I'm just leaning against his body as before, only this time with my legs swung over his lap.

I rest against him suddenly totally at ease, and revel in the fact that now, more than ever, he feels like my Eric.

_

* * *

_

_Eric POV_

I am enraged.

I _should_ be enraged.

Never has a human spoken to me thusly; never and lived. I tighten my arms around her as she repositions herself across my lap. We seem to have come full circle: from sitting quietly together, to getting shot at, to Sookie threatening me, to sitting quietly together.

'_If and when I have your blood'_

I rub my face in her neck to relieve some of the tension that builds at recalling her words. Despite her forcefulness, I cannot help but admire her. It was a game well-played; she has proven again and again that she is a difficult woman to fool. But I had to try. My need for her is overwhelming me. Having her take my blood would give me some level of control, some way to know what is happening. We are so similar. So determined that the only one who should have power over us is ourselves. But there are powers out there that cannot be controlled; cannot be fought. Total randomness, unpredictability.

Like when a fucking religious fanatic tries to shoot you. So silly; just a small hunk of metal. Humans do have a talent for finding the most efficient ways of killing one another.

She was almost shot. She was almost taken from me.

I repress a growl. I hate this. I hate feeling this. She is causing me to feel fear. Fear. Me. I have not feared anything in my human or vampire life, but now…

Yes, for a split-second I was afraid for her life.

Sometimes I don't wonder if I am under some kind of spell. These feelings. But then I look at her, and think of all she has done, all she could do, and I know it must be real.

'_If and when I have your blood'_

'…_when I have your blood'_

I hold her close, and let myself just enjoy her warmth. She looks up at me with a small smile and brushes her lips against mine and mutters "Thank you."

Bill walks up to us, and with no inflection says: "Our plane leaves in one hour; we must depart."

He totally ignores that Sookie is on my lap. Good; if I had my way he would ignore her completely. We stand, and I make a mental note to send Sookie a new blouse… and a pair of flip flops.

I kiss her on the cheek and walk toward the door with Bill.

We are almost out the car when we hear Sookie scream from inside the house.

Bill and I are by her side in the kitchen in an instant, and find her kneeling on the tile over the young man I was 'rude' to.

"Toby!" Sookie yells.

He is face-down in a pool of his own blood.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

_Sookie POV_

I watch Bill and Eric leave and realize that I'm famished. I haven't eaten in over eight hours. I wonder how that food Toby was talking about is coming along. Before I even enter the kitchen I can see the pool of blood. Please…

Oh God. Oh no.

I fall to the ground beside Toby's body and scream. Please be alive.

Tears start to stream down my face as I search for the source of all the blood. I vaguely understand that Bill and Eric have entered the kitchen and are talking to me. I try to turn him over, but his dead weight is too heavy. Bill kneels down and flips him over as easily as flipping a pancake. I get a mental image of Toby as a pancake and fight back hysterical laughs. I guess I'm finally cracking up.

A small gush of blood identifies that the bullet wound is in Toby's upper chest, near his collar bone. I put my hand over it and press. Bill is looking at the blood with a mild gleam of hunger. Goddamn it, he just had an all you can eat buffet, is he really lusting after blood again so soon. I have to get him out of here.

"Bill. Go get Stan. Now!"

Bill leaves quickly, and Eric kneels down over the body across from me. He's still breathing, but his eyes have rolled back in his head. So much blood. I feel nauseated as finding Gran in Timeline A comes back to me in waves.

"We have to call an ambulance" I tell him. He looks up at me, face blank. "No. It's too late for that."

I let out a sob as Toby's body convulses slightly under my hands. I know Eric's right. He has seen thousands of battles. He knows what a fatal wound looks like. How long did my little scene with Eric take on the sofa? Five minutes? Ten? Fifteen? I have no idea. And all the while Toby was bleeding out all over the Saltillo tile. Where was everybody? I suppose everyone was too caught up in the post-battle feast/fornication… and what reason does a vampire have to go into the kitchen when there's blood on tap?

"Toby?" I say softly. "Toby, come on." I try to listen to him, but it's only silence. The equivalent of hearing total darkness. Suddenly I get a flash from him. An image, his last thoughts. Stan laughing. Really laughing; he doesn't have his glasses on.

He looks beautiful.

To Toby he looks so beautiful.

Suddenly I'm being violently shoved aside, and I see Stan, the real Stan, sliding his arms under Toby and lifting him up. Eric and Bill's fangs have come down, and they are glaring at him. He ignores them, carefully lifting Toby and walking upstairs.

I sit against the cabinets and assess if I'm hurt. I may be bruised, but otherwise I'm fine. I pull my legs up to my chest and hug my knees. I can feel the shock start to fade, and the guilt start to set in. I did this. Toby was where he was because of the changes I made. The lone gunman that strayed from the Fellowship attacked because of the situation I set up. Did Toby die in the assault in Timeline A? I don't know. I don't remember seeing his body, but then, I didn't really look too closely. I try to tell myself that one casualty is better than dozens. That what I did was worth it. It doesn't really matter though. I didn't know any of those people. The guilt of hurting one person I know is more than the gratification of saving any number of strangers. How messed up is that? Or is that normal? I don't even know anymore.

Eric and Bill are talking in the entry-way of the kitchen.

Eric comes over. "Sookie, come on, we are going back to the hotel."

I shake my head. No way.

"Sookie, there is nothing for you to do here. I know you liked Toby, but--"

I know I'm being unreasonable. There _is_ nothing I can do. "Eric, you two go ahead, you have a plane to catch. I am staying." He stands and walks over to Bill. They murmur to each other in the entryway, and he leaves. Part of me hopes he's respecting my wishes. The other part feels like maybe he's had just about enough of me for one night. Bill comes up to me next.

"I'm _not_ going Bill! You just try to make me!"

Bill calmly replies: "It is my job to protect you. I only came to tell you that I will be out in the back yard if you need me. Eric has gone to catch the flight." He turns and walks away.

I can't take this. I go upstairs to find a bed to lie down for a little while. I find a small unoccupied bedroom and curl into the silk blankets. I realize that they couldn't have called an ambulance even if Toby was in decent shape: over a dozen Fellowship members had been bitten down and butchered here not two hours before. It occurs that I shouldn't feel so comfortable just lying down in this house, full of vampires drunk on the kill. I manage to think _aperio chain_ and wrap myself before my eyes close.

* * *

I wake up to a small knock on the door.

"Yes?"

The door opens, and the rectangle of light from the hall blinds me for a few seconds. When my eyes clear, I make out Stan's silhouette. "Come with me."

Numbly I sit up and untwine my chain. I can't see his expression, not that he would have one anyway. I edge off the bed and follow him down to the end of the hall, to a room I've never seen. I keep a hold of the chain. Who knows where Stan's head is at right now. I realize immediately that we are in Stan's bedroom, but he just makes a bee-line for his desk and shuffles a few papers around. He comes back to me and holds out a check. I take it, and my eyes practically bug out of my head. It's for over five thousand dollars.

"This is too much" I begin, but Stan interrupts. "You have done your job well." If at all possible he sounds more apathetic than ever. He turns back to his desk. My throat closes up and I can tell I'm about to start crying. How do you console a vampire who seems to have no feelings? That's not true, I think to myself. Stan has feelings; he just, keeps them way deep down.

I wait until I can trust my voice and say "He was thinking of you." Stan goes still. "Explain." _Oh, what am I doing?_ "I just, I wanted to let you know that I read him down in the kitchen, and, he was thinking of you. He was thinking of you laughing. You looked really happy. I think, it helped him." I am crying now, but the tears are just silently falling out of my eyes. I want to go on, to tell Stan how much Toby cared about him, but before I can he speaks.

"Sometimes it was almost like _he_ had telepathic abilities. I am, not easy to… get on with. I have survived by being ruthless, emotionless. Most people respect this, and leave me alone. I enjoy being alone. He, he never paid any attention. Just followed me home like a puppy from that store."

He cleans his glasses and puts them back on. "Why am I telling you all this?" He sounds more like he's asking himself.

"Maybe you need to."

My motivation suddenly becomes clear to me; the real reason why I stayed. I want Stan to understand. I want Stan to understand Toby. "He didn't have telepathic powers. He was constantly guessing about how you felt about him." Stan lowers his head. "But that didn't matter to him. He may not have understood you, but he _accepted_ you. He would have followed you anywhere."

"Even into death?"

"Stan, you can't blame yourself. You couldn't know." Besides, I think bitterly, it's my fault.

He finally turns to face me. "Oh, I don't blame myself for his death. I blame myself for something much worse. But your words, they have taught me to hope."

I'm confused. Stan sees my confusion and goes on.

"For you see, I have turned him."

I feel like I've been punched in the stomach. "You, you turned him?! Isn't that dangerous? He was so hurt…"

Stan looks furious. "Yes, yes it may go terribly wrong. He may have mental psychosis, or be terribly weak, or he may not survive at all, but I have done it."

He pushes his glasses up on his nose.

"None of that matters. If he is wrong, I will still… he will still be mine. In all likelihood it will be fine. I have not turned a human in 500 years, but I am confident that it went as well as it could have. No, the real regret I have is that he will awaken and feel betrayed. That he will not want…"

_Me. This life._

Oh crap, I'm hearing Stan. I have no idea what to say here.

"The vampire who lead Farrell to the Fellowship. He was disgusted with himself. He did not want to go on. I should not have done it."

Crazy Sookie that I am, I go over and touch Stan's shoulder. "That vampire, he wants it to end because of all the horrible things he's done. He doesn't have anything left but hurt and pain. You turning Toby was just proof that you are not like him. I think Toby would have wanted you to, and at the very least will understand why you did."

Stan glances at my hand on his shoulder, and I slowly remove it. "You are a very strange human."

"Yeah, I get that a lot."

"We will contact you if the state of Texas needs your services again."

Dismissed. Honestly, I'm relieved. I don't want Stan to know, but I'm actually kind of horrified that he turned Toby, and worried about the outcome.

"Could I call in a little while, to see how Toby is?"

Stan opens the door and nods. "He would like that."

I'm out in the hall before I blurt out "Oh, you might want to consider actually, um, _telling_ Toby how you feel."

Stan begins to shut the door. "He will be my child; he will know how I feel through our bond."

Huh. Oh yeah. "Well, it may still be nice for him if you say the words."

Stan pauses, and I see him nodding as he shuts the door.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

_Eric POV_

I am not running away.

I tell myself this for the first hour of my plane ride. I have never cared for air travel in this manner. Why travel by air if you do everything in your power to away all the good parts: soaring, diving, moisture, wind gusts. I suppose turbulence has its charm. Sitting in a hulking piece of metal for hours, the stail air. I suppose flying on my own has spoiled me. Many of the vampires I know who pre-date modern technology find that flight is one of their most favorite human contributions. If I made a list it would not even make the top one-hundred.

Lube would definitely be in the top ten, and elastic ties for pulling your hair back.

I have legitimate reasons for leaving. Fangtasia for one. Pam can handle most business dealings, but we finally have a decent potential replacement for Longshadow lined up, and I must see him myself. On the whole Cho seems to be reliable. He was recommended to me from several sources, all of which also warned me against coming across as irresponsible or unstable. Putting off our meeting was not an option.

No, I am not running away, but to be honest, I also want to separate from Sookie, if only temporarily. I find my thinking becomes muddled when I am around her. My priorities shift. I need to get back to Louisiana and be absolutely sure of my actions. I do not know what Sookie wants. She has become increasingly affectionate with me, and our little scene on Stan's couch suggests that she is finally willing to yield to me (at least sexually; her stance on blood exchange is still quite murky… _if and when_). What will she expect of me? What can I give?

These are things I need to think about, and I don't have much time. I do not want to give Compton any opportunity with Sookie in such a vulnerable state. I wonder if he will directly disobey my order to stay outside. He won't if he knows what is good for him.

I will deal with Cho tomorrow night, and then go to see Sookie. She has made it very clear that she wants to be in control of what happens between us. For now, I will continue to defer to her. Not only am I curious as to what she has in mind, but if prompted, I am not sure I would be able to articulate my own views on the matter.

The plane jumps and drops as it hits choppy air currents. Some of the humans scream. I only smile and close my eyes, and imagine I am flying.

* * *

_Sookie POV_

I stop off in the backyard before I go to let Bill know that I'm returning to the hotel.

He gives a short nod. "Very well. I am staying here until sunset tomorrow. I cannot risk traveling in my coffin with Fellowship activity being what it is."

I feel a pang. "I'm sorry for messing things up for you." I mean it about that flight, but it sort of comes out as something more. My emotions are going crazy. I wouldn't be surprised if I started crying again right in front of Bill. I know it's selfish, but after everything with Toby, I just want my friend back.

Oh damn it, my eyes are actually watering. I turn to get away and Bill pulls me into a hug.

"You have chosen Eric."

It's one of Bill's classic question/statements. I nod against his chest.

"Are we still friends Bill?"

It's a cheep move. It's not like his gentlemanly ways will really let him say "No, eat shit and die, we are not friends." But I want reassurance, even if it's not altogether authentic. He runs his hands through my hair once, and all the memories of him fixing my hair and brushing it come back to me. My arms tighten around him. No matter how I feel about Eric, I really do care about Bill.

_Please say we are friends._

"I will be the best friend I am able to be for you Sookie." The 'considering that you are Eric's' is left unspoken. I pull away and he grasps my hands. He looks me in the eyes and says "I will always protect you." He says it like a vow. He says it like he really, really means it. Lord, maybe he really did love me all that time.

I hope he doesn't still hold out hope for something romantic between us. I need to remember to call Ted as soon as I get back home and set up a pow-wow between her and Bill about the database. I can only nod at Bill's statement, and suddenly remember something.

I smile a half-cheerful smile. "Well, one good thing about this whole business is the paycheck. Now at least I won't be competing with Caroline Holiday Bellefleur for the spot of "most destitute in town."

Bill lets go of my hands and gets a strange look on his face. "Holiday Bellefluer?" I'm proud at how off the cuff I sound: "Oh yeah, Andy and Portia Bellefluer's grandmother. I'm surprised you don't know of her, she's pretty well-known in Bon Temps. They've been dirt poor for an age now, but can't stand to admit it."

Bill is lost in thought. "So they need assistance?"

"Yep," I say as I walk off, "I just don't know if there's anyone around who could give it to them." I wave goodnight, but Bill is already taking a note pad out of his pocket and writing notes. I sigh. The Bellefleur's may not be my most favorite people, but who am I to begrudge anyone financial security, or the good-will of a very very distant relative?

Plus I know helping them will make Bill, my friend, happy.

* * *

I don't get back to the hotel until 3 am, and only get a couple hours of sleep before I have to get up to meet the sun with Godfrey. With everything else that's happened, I haven't had much time to angst over Godfrey's fate. My stomach churns with fresh guilt as I drive to the Fellowship. If Godfrey isn't here, if he doesn't have the will to do this, I am majorly fucked. I am coming to grips as much as I can with Toby. I really do think he will be glad to stay with Stan as a vampire. But will he feel that way in five years? Or a hundred? I just can't relate to any positive feelings about being a vampire, despite having _had_ feelings for two of them. Maybe Toby would have eventually wanted this. I didn't read that on him, but I get the sense more that he never thought Stan would do it, not that it was his preference to remain human.

Hopefully when I call him he will be happy.

As for Godfrey: If I've let that monster loose on the world again, I don't think I can live with myself.

I look around the area where he emerged in Timeline A… He's not here.

I don't know how long I stand there; all I know is that I start to pry that he will come. That this one thing can stay the same. I don't care how inappropriate it is to bargain with God, or how ridiculously ironic it is that I am praying on the grounds of The Fellowship of the Sun for a vampire to die. Just this one thing…

Suddenly he emerges from the shadows.

Thank The Lord Almighty.

"Hello." It's all I can think to say.

Godfrey nods.

He looks toward the lightening sky. "The sun will be up soon."

No matter what he has done, I still think he's brave, and I tell him so.

"Are you an angel? I never met one you know."

I blush and look down. "No. I'm just a human. I came to watch."

"Why?"

"You helped me once."

"I have never helped anyone. I am an evil creature, and accept whatever awaits me."

"You're wrong. You helped me."

A single tear falls from my eyes. Huh, and here I felt like I was all cried out. Godfrey watches the tear move down my face and continues to track it as it lingers on my chin, before it falls into the grass. As if that were the signal he was waiting for, he turns, shoulders squared, and walks toward the rising sun.

* * *

I manage to get a few more hours of sleep before my flight. I should get home around four pm. Not too far from sunset. I wonder if Eric will call me. Or, should I call him? It's a fine line between being an independent woman putting in her share for a relationship, and looking like a desperate, clingy juvenile. I've pretty much decided to go for it at this point. Gran's right, he feels _something_for me at least, I'm sure. And who are we kidding? If I'm going to snuggle him, there is no way my will power can hold out. He's going to have to have to want a relationship though. I won't be his fuck buddy or answer at his beck and call. I still can't see it, but I can only let things work out how they'll work out. Toby has taught me that no matter what I do, things can't work out all the time. Knowing what happened in Timeline A isn't a golden ticket.

That reminds me. I promised Pam I would watch _Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory_with her. According to her own estimates she's watched it over one hundred times. I wonder if she ever asked Eric to have a Wonka-themed party. Pam would make a perfect Veruca Salt. I should invite Ted over too; I doubt she's seen it. I let my mind wander over the next major Timeline A events as the plane takes me home.

There's Bill getting called to Lorena, which I have almost no discernable plan for. He has to go no matter what. I have to get into Russell's compound somehow… preferably without getting staked. Debbie Pelt. As much as I'd like to kill that bitch, I want to stick to my "keep the corpse-count low" policy. Which probably means avoiding Alcide; which makes my heart ache a little.

I don't want to face the fact that things are only going to get more and more complicated.

I huff and burrow my head into the flimsy airline pillow (what do they make these things from, overstock from maxi-pad companies?!). Maybe I'll take a week off from plotting and scheming. According to my not-totally-accurate memory, I should have at least a month when I get home where nothing major happens. Whereas in Timeline A, I worked and got increasingly ignored by Bill, this time I look forward to working on my relationship (?) with Eric, working at Merlotte's, hooking Bill and Ted up and stuffing myself with as many of Gran's pies as I can get.

Oh that just sounds like bliss.

I rut into the pillow some more and start to doze. Yes, I'll put off planning for just one week…

* * *

I feel woozy and gross as I get off the plane. Having my sleep broken up into short blocks for days on end does not agree with me. Gran wanted to meet me at the airport, but I insisted that that was silly. It's an hour drive from Bon Temps to the airport and another hour back. I do kind of wish we could have had a big, slow mo, running toward each other reunion in the airport though. I always wanted to have one of those. Eric or Bill or someone arranged for a car to pick me up. I scan the driver's mind as he tucks away his "Stackhouse" sign. He's clean, sent from a known agency, just doing his job.

It's after five by the time we pull into my driveway. I really do need to get it redone. I can't wait to plan out everything I'm going to do with my new windfall. The driver, Paolo, offers to help me with my bags, but I tell him not to worry about it. All I have is a medium sized bag and a carry-on. I have a moment of awkwardness as I realize he probably wants a tip. I search around in my purse for my wallet, but Paolo just says: "Don't worry about it m'am, it's already taken care of."

Oh. Of course it is.

M'am?! Oh lord, maybe I _do_ need a little vampire blood in me to help me look a little younger!

I shake my head to myself as I make my way up the steps. It's no wonder that I look like a "m'am" after the last few days I've had. As I make my way toward the door, I think I smell one of Gran's pies. I open the door and smile wide, mouth watering.

My smile falters as I realize that what I smell, is the smell of something burning.

*************************************************************************************************************************************************

**Yes, another cliff! Muhahahaha! **


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

_Sookie POV_

I rush into the entryway to see that a good amount of smoke is coming from the kitchen. Why aren't the smoke detectors going off?... Have we ever changed the batteries in the smoke detectors? I lift my shirt up to my face and make my way in.

I can't help but cough, even through the shirt. The smoke is emanating from the oven. I go over and shut it off. I go through the house and quickly open all the windows, and turn on all the fans. It's so unlike Gran to forget about something in the oven. I make my way back to the kitchen and open the oven door. Inside (after a cloud of smoke clears) I see a pie, charred totally black.

What a waste.

"Gran?" I call out. I hope Gran isn't becoming forgetful. Alzheimer's doesn't tend to run in our family, but she's getting up there now. I guess she probably over-slept. Gran's taken to napping everyday around four. She says the naps 'give her more pep' for the rest of the evening. Good thing I came home; she could have slept through the entire house burning down!

I make my way upstairs to wake her, and my brain starts to work really slowly.

Gran is sleeping in the middle of the hallway.

That's not right; Gran should be in her bed.

If she's sleeping she should be in her bed.

"Gran?" My voice comes out in a little whimper; like a child having a bad dream.

Gran's sleeping, sleeping in the hall, sleeping with her eyes open.

No.

_No._

I'm crying now. I can feel the wetness on my checks, but I don't feel anything else. I can't feel my body move as I crumple to the ground next to her, I can't feel my arms holding her tight as I shake her. No, I correct myself, not 'her.' She's not my Gran anymore, she's just a body.

I make myself feel now because I need to. I have to make sure. I move my hand to her neck. To the neck. I concentrate. It's still, and cool. Gran's neck is cooler than Eric's.

_Aperio cell phone_.

"911 emergency response."

"Yes, hello. Please send… please send someone, I just found my Gran."

"Where did you find her?"

"At the top of the stairs. I thought she was sleeping."

"Okay, I need you to check and see if she's breathing. We're sending someone right now. For now just check if she's breathing… Can you do that? Hello?... M'am, please stay on the line…"

"She's dead."

I push the red key and let the phone fall out of my hand.

As if saying the words and hanging up make it true, it hits me. I can't feel it yet; but I know that it's true. It's the truth now. She's gone again. I'm alone again. I curl up into a ball and wait for the ambulance. I stair at Gran's profile until I can't anymore, and try to get my mind to wander. I never understood sending an ambulance for a body. It's a tease. All those lights and all that equipment pretending they can do something. A hearse seems more appropriate.

Why, what did this? Irrational rage builds up in me at Rene. He did this. He killed my Gran.

No. No, that's not right. There's no blood. I move to sit Indian-style next to her and straighten her house-coat. Gran wouldn't want people gawking at her looking unkempt. I smooth her hair back too, but I can't make myself close her eyes.

No blood. Death without blood. It doesn't seem to make sense.

Suddenly there are people all around me. Two men are trying to resuscitate Gran, while a tired looking woman in a navy uniform speaks to me. I nod, and start to smile my uncomfortable smile, but it won't come. I can't hear anything she says. She shakes her head and walks away. I watch them zip Gran's body up in a black corpse bag.

I wish I had blood to clean like last time.

I wish I had something to do.

The female paramedic wraps me in a blanket, and I read her lips: she says sorry for your loss etc. I bet she's said it a hundred times before. I nod, and pull the blanket tighter around me. It feels nice; something to hold on to.

They leave.

The patch of carpet she was on looks exactly the same. Everything in the house is the same. I go downstairs and look at the charred pie. I can't tell what kind it is. This really bothers me for some reason. Gran's last pie, and I don't know what kind it was. I look in the trash and see half a dozen peach pits. Peach pie.

Peachy keen.

I make it to the sink with the pie before I start throwing up.

All my airport food comes up, and after that bile, and after that I dry-heave. It feels good, like I can purge these feelings. I know I can't. I know that tomorrow when I wake up, and every time I wake up after that, I will be in horrible pain. But for now, I can feel empty.

I go upstairs and walk along the wall, avoiding where Gran was, like stepping on that patch of carpet will mean something. I slowly change into pajamas on autopilot, and crawl into bed.

Some time later I hear the cell phone ringing from where I dropped it in the hall. My blanket feels heavy, and I ignore it. I've only dozed, but my mind has been muddled enough not to think. The phone rings again. I sleep.

* * *

Tap.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I dream that there's a woodpecker pecking at the remains of Gran's pie. I try to shoo it away. The tapping persists.

I open my eyes, but I know I'm still sleeping. The woodpecker has turned into Eric and he's at my window. I shoo him away.

He lifts up my window, and I feel a cool breeze. What a realistic dream. "Sookie."

"Go away Eric. You can't have the pie; you wouldn't like it, it's burnt. Also, it's a pie."

He smirks and leans toward the open window, but doesn't brace himself on the sill, counting on his non-invite to keep him upright. He almost falls through it, and in a very cat-like fashion manages to right himself at the last moment. He rights himself, but is half-way inside. His eyes are wide. He slowly climbs in, resting his feet on the floor as if it will buckle at any moment. He stands a few feet from the bed looking astonished. I'm awake now.

"I didn't invite you in." It comes out monotone, even though I am really genuinely shocked. Eric has not been inside my house in this timeline. I sit up; pushing the blanket off takes all my strength.

He shakes his head. "You didn't invite me in."

"Then how are you… in?"

Having this to focus on is good. Simple questions.

"I do not know. Sookie…" He looks into my eyes for the first time since entering my room. "Are you alright? I called several times. You generally answer."

Am I alright? Hard question.

"My Gran died."

His face does not change, but he nods. He looks around the room one more time before moving to the other side of the bed. I don't see him take his shoes off, but they are gone when he moves to sit next to me. I have nothing else to say. I just want to sleep.

I don't think I say that aloud, but he seems to understand. He scoots me down and flattens my legs like you would a child, and lies down behind me. My pillow shifts as the weight of his head rests on it, and his arms wrap around me. One of his hands comes to rest on my chest just above my heart. He starts slowly raising and lowering his palm over my chest in a rhythmic motion.

I close my eyes, and it's almost like I can feel his heart beating next to mine.

************************************************************************************************************************************************

*Sorry for the short chapter… there just wasn't more to say :`(

**Chapters may be slower in the coming week(s), because I have pretty much come to a point where I'm not 100% on where I want to go plot-wise, plus, I have to re-read Club Dead. Thanks for all reviews, I still hope to get at least a few chapters out a week (maybe posting every-other day or so… I don't want to lag on my pace too much, but I don't want the story to turn to utter crap either)!

***Also, I must give credit to the Buffy episode 'The Body' as partial inspiration for this chapter. The death of Buffy's mother moved me greatly, even at a time when I was no longer particularly interested in the show. Joyce's natural death, in the face of so much supernatural death was heart-breaking, and I hope I have been able to capture even 1/10th of that sentiment here.


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

_Sookie POV_

It's been two weeks since Gran's passing, and I feel… so much. I keep asking myself why it's hurting _more _the second time. She already died once; you'd think I be prepared. You'd think that I'd be happy that I got any extra time with her at all.

And I am; but… I just can't stand it. I thought I could fix things. Turns out I was just putting some duct tape on a leaking water-main already set to break.

The cornier said it was a massive heart-attack; that she probably died within minutes, and without too much pain… I don't know if he was just softening the blow or not. Are medical professionals allowed to bend the truth? I hope he was truthful. I know I need to stop blaming myself; it doesn't get anything done, and I have a lot to do.

Why did Gran have to make so much damn bacon?

I sigh. That's right Sookie, blame the deceased instead of yourself, that's constructive. The first week was the hardest. All I wanted to do was curl up in bed and shut everything out, but I had a funeral to arrange, and a million different things to settle. Having done that part already was a relief. In Timeline A I was so unprepared. This time I pretty much took care of the legal stuff and the funeral on autopilot. I also reamed Jason out preemptively, telling him that if our child-molesting uncle came within a hundred yards of the funeral I wouldn't be accountable for my actions, and that castration would definitely be involved.

Jason didn't ask if I meant him or Uncle Bartlett.

Things with Eric have been good. Weird, but good. He doesn't seem to know how to comfort me exactly, but most nights he gets away from Fangtasia to see me for at least a few hours. For that first week he mainly just cuddled me. Even now I can't help but mentally snort at the idea of sex-crazed-Eric snuggling with me for seven nights straight, a perfect gentleman. Well no, not a perfect gentleman. After the first couple of nights he eased in to touching and kissing me more, and joking with me a bit.

On second thought, maybe he _does_ know just how to comfort me. I'm feeling more normal than I ever thought possible a couple weeks ago. Gran's death is now just a constant dull ache. Painful, and always with me, but livable.

By the end of this week we've both ended up practically naked a couple times, doing what the girls in high school used to call "everything but" (which is pretty much everything but full-on sex). Incidentally, I spent all of freshman year thinking it was "everything bu-t-t," which put me off sex even more than I was already.

Thank God I decided I wanted Eric before I got home. Jumping in the sack with Bill after Gran died the first time around was not the greatest idea. It felt great at the time, and helped me deal with my grief, but in hindsight I didn't do it for the 'right' reasons. I know now that I want to have _Eric_, not just a distraction, a confirmation that someone cares.

Eric has pretty much had me initiate everything too. I've definitely worked out that it's some kind of plan of his. There is no way he is letting me take the reigns just for the hell of it. There are moments (which are growing more and more frequent), where I can tell it is taking every ounce of his will-power to keep from throwing me across the bed and ravaging me. To be honest, I want him to… I'm just dragging my feet because I know it will somehow make things official… which means they can become unofficial. Or maybe I'm just scared that it will change the way things are going between us.

How long will Eric keep coming to see me at my house? I'm anxious that his attention will lag once he sees me doing better… or that once we have sex that will become his focus (or even worse, mine). I also can't stop the nagging voice in my head from asking if this is the _real_ Eric, or if his comforting good-boyfriend routine is just an act.

Maybe it's both.

I hate to think like that; these past weeks have been (ironically) the best times I've ever spent with Eric, comparable even to our time during his witch-induced fugue state (I recently started reading a book about an Asian graduate student who went into a fugue state, dropped out of school and joined an underground Dungeons & Dragons group).

Bill came by with flowers earlier in the week, and his presence helped to jolt me back to reality. I can't let what's happened derail me. Bill is still in danger. Hadley is still in danger. _I'm_ still in danger.

I panicked last week when I thought I might have missed the date of Hadley's death already. I finish packing as I replay my conversation with Bill:

"Bill, just how good are you on the computer?"

Bill looked up from his blood, surprised at my question. "Fairly. Better than most vampires anyway."

I nodded and went on: "If I asked you to try and find someone, do you think you could do it?"

Bill set his drink aside and asked: "Who do you need to find Sookie? I will do my best to find them."

"My cousin Hadley."

Bill looked away at this point, apparently at a loss for words. I continued to calmly look at him. Of course Bill knows exactly where Hadley is. I felt a little guilty; Bill really feels bad for me about Gran, and I'm pretty much using that to squeeze information out of him. I went on:

"I tried to find her for the funeral, but I didn't have any luck. I want to tell her about Gran; I need to talk to her. She's almost the only family I have left now."

Bill considered this for a long moment, and I could tell he was weighing the pros and cons of telling me what he knew of Hadley.

"I will not need to conduct a search. Your cousin is a vampire, and a part of the Queen's entourage." I do my best to look shocked, and it's pretty easy, considering that I really didn't think Bill would just lay it out there like that.

"I did not tell you before, because once someone has been turned, interacting with family is a very personal choice. Many vampires want nothing to do with the remnants of their human lives."

"I need to go see her."

"Sookie, that may not be the best--"

"I need to Bill."

He sighed and took his bottle to the sink. "I will notify Hadley and the Queen."

Bill handled the red-tape of getting me into New Orleans and setting up a meeting with Hadley. I'm not really sure what he had to do with the Queen or Hadley to make it happen, but it's all set up. I finish packing my overnight bag and go over it again. Get in to New Orleans tonight at sundown. Talk with Hadley, warn her, head home. Simple enough. The bag is really just a precaution. I don't want to spend more time there than I need to, and I don't want to be seen by the queen if I can help it.

Hadley's first, but soon I'm going to have to deal with the whole Bill/Lorena situation. As much as I'd like to pre-empt the whole dang fiasco, there's nothing I can do to stop Bill from answering Lorena's call. My hands grip the steering wheel tightly as I turn onto the highway.

I almost asked Ted to help Bill with the finishing touches on the database the other day on the phone, when a chilling thought occurred to me. Last time Russell sent his were-lackey after me when Bill disappeared; if Ted gets more involved, and he finds out, that might make _her_ a target. Somehow I doubt that Ted would hold up under torture as well as Bill.

I settled for planning to have them both over for tea/blood once the Lorena mess blows over. Lord, I've still only got a half-plan for that. I can't figure out how to get into his mansion without getting staked. I sigh. First things first: Bill isn't leaving for "Seattle" for another four days. In that time I can hopefully come up with something.

It's that, or become a human shish-kabab again.

My stomach gurgles. I swear, I'm getting an ulcer. On top of it all, I can't help but think that trying to change things is useless anyway. Look at how things worked out with Gran.

Suddenly I hear her stern, slightly sarcastic voice in my head: _That's right! Take a good look Sookie: You and I became closer, I passed on the way I was meant to, and I was finally able to get that crotchety old Martin Silverton to attend a Descendance meeting! Oh yes, what a waste._

I can even see her rolling her eyes.

I snort and almost veer off the road. Martin Silverton is something of a local shut-in around Bon Temps. Gran tried for years to get him to come to a meeting because most of his family was involved in the war, but he never would. Finally about a month ago he showed up with his grandfather's medal of honor. Gran about passed out with joy. When she asked him why he finally decided to attend, he'd said he'd heard good things about her pies.

I remember teasing Gran that he'd finally given in to his mad crush on her.

Suddenly I feel lighter, and step on the gas to New Orleans and my undead cousin.


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

_Eric POV_

I get things done at Fangtasia fairly quickly, and prepare to go visit Sookie. Pam eyes me speculatively from the doorway of my office. At first Pam was exceedingly pleased with my "infatuation" as she calls it with Sookie, but now I can tell that she is borderline concerned.

The last time I saw Pam borderline concerned was in 1815 during the _**eruption**_ of the Mt. Tambora _**volcano**__.__** The entire left side of her body caught on fire.**_

"You _do_ realize that you have spent a total of ten hours at Fangtasia this week? You race the sun back to Shreveport every morning, and race out to Hicksville as fast as you can once you rise."

I audibly sigh. I am not in the mood to discuss this with Pam right now. Plus, I want to get to 'Hicksville.'

"She was very attached to her grandmother."

Pam's eyebrows rise. "More like _you_ are very attached to _her_. I have never seen you like this. Is this leading to some kind of end-game? What are you doing with Sookie? You shouldn't play with her. She is… valuable to us."

I feel my own eyebrows reach for my hairline as I realize that Pam's concern is not necessarily only for me. I smirk. So, Pam doesn't want Sookie to get hurt by Big Bad Eric. If she only knew. These past two weeks have been both maddening, and euphoric. Sticking to the 'let Sookie lead' plan is becoming more and more difficult, but I am so close. I have also been forced to acknowledge (though I'd hazard that it was the case long ago) that sex is only a part of the equation.

I have laughed more this week that I have in the last decade. If Pam knew my true motive for going to see Sookie every night, I would never hear the end of it. I visit Sookie because when I am with her, I am happy. I feel happiness.

Not triumph, or satisfaction or pleasure (though I feel my fair share of those too). Happiness.

It is terrifying.

I ignore Pam as I straighten papers on my desk. Let her think I am seducing Sookie for some nefarious reason. Of course there were a variety of reasons I had when I started pursuing Sookie: her power, her mystery, the desire to gain control. But somehow they have faded into the background. My reasons have shifted from one kind of selfishness to another.

These feelings; at intervals I hate them. I feel weak and ineffectual. Pam's right, I have not been at Fangtasia as much as I should. That will have to change soon. I will have to set boundaries with Sookie soon.

I do not fool myself however. I am still who I am, and no amount of happiness will change that. Something very strange is happening between Sookie and I, and I aim to discover what it is. It started with the dreams (which are still occurring every night, and only continue to bolster my reactions to her). And there is the fact that I came in to her home without an invitation. In the coming week I plan to ask her to revoke said invitation. If it does not work, it will be unprecedented. This strange familiarity I have with her. These strange things. I am going to find out why they are happening. Something tells me Sookie knows more than she is letting on.

Pam is tapping her foot now. The best punishment for Pam is to ignore her. She got her way always in her human life, and it has been much the same in her vampiric existence. She hates not getting her way, and she hates being ignored.

I aim to do both as often as she can stand.

I tell her to lock up when she leaves, and am out the door and in mid-flight over the parking lot before I hear her cursing.

* * *

_Sookie POV_

As I enter the city and get closer to Hadley's apartment, I start to get nervous. As I drove I went over all of my clearest memories of Hadley before she ran away: Her performance at the middle school talent show (a hilarious cover of George Michael's Faith)… playing with her and Jason in the summers… letting her put make-up on me… her beating Jason up when he called me ugly-clown-face (he never was the most creative). These memories are in such harsh contrast to the Goth image she adopted in her teens, and her alleged drug addiction and criminality once she ran away. Lord, what am I doing? I've only been thinking of Hadley as my cousin, not as a vampire, or the stranger that she really is. Crap, I've been so distracted this week that I pretty much had to do this on the fly… Note to self: In the future, don't come up with plans rashly and then act on them within forty-eight hours.

The drive to New Orleans hasn't been very exciting, and I make it to Hadley's around seven. Bill set up our meeting for eight, so I decide to stop in a small café and get something to eat. I'm not really sure why Bill had to arrange all this. I was hoping to get her phone number and set things up myself. I guess that's not vampire protocol. At first Bill told me that I would be going to the Queen's estate. I nixed that right away. This is a visit between family, not a Sookie-deals-with-mad-vamp-drama visit. The meeting (well, visit) was relocated to Hadley's apartment, which suited me just fine, seeing as I'd already been there.

I'm still debating if I should visit Amelia or not. I miss her so much, and I'm worried that if I do prevent Hadley's final death (which is why I'm here after all), that we'll never meet at all. I get lost in thought and soon I have to head to the apartment.

I enter the building, reflecting on how different the circumstances are for my visit this time. No packing up Hadley's things; no were-vamp attack. I knock on the door to her apartment and quickly smooth my hands over my hair one last time.

Hadley answers and looks me up and down. I do the same to her, though not as quickly. She's dressed casually; well, casually for a vampire: a silky black t-shirt and deep maroon leather pants. "Let's get this over with" she says, as she backs gracefully out of the doorway to let me in. Oookay. Not the happy familial welcome I was hoping for, but I guess I'm not here to become Hadley's friend.

I find myself a little put out as she neglects to offer me a drink and just sits down on her leather sofa (the leather of her pants rubs against it making a funny squeaking noise, which she doesn't acknowledge; I try my best not to crack a smile). This is not the Hadley I remember. When we were younger she had always been so full of life (as cliché as that sounds). I hope for her sake that this is partly an 'I'm-a-tough-vampire' act. I hope she has found some kind of happiness.

I look up and realize that she's been staring at me, waiting for me to speak. "Um, nice place." I'm about to say something along the lines of "It's good to see you" when she cuts me off. "Listen Sookie, I don't have anything against you, but I don't really want to engage in small talk and 'remember the time the cow got out of the barn' remembrances with you. I am aware of the death of Adele. Honestly, she was just another human to me. There are very few things about my human life that I could stand, let alone care about, so please just get to the point."

She looks soft for a moment, and even without my mind-reading abilities working I can tell she's thinking about Hunter. My irritation at her less-than-stellar manners eases somewhat. She's had a hard time of things; if she doesn't want to chat, then I will get down to it.

Deep breath. "I'm here to warn you."

Her eyes narrow, but she says nothing, prompting me to go on.

"Okay, so I assume you know about… my ability. My, how I can read people's thoughts?" _Damn right you do_ I think. I still can't really forgive her for revealing that information to the Queen. Whatever, this is not about me. She nods. The whole 'I heard X from Y' seemed to work for me in Dallas, so I've decided to continue with that tactic here.

"I was at the mall in Shreveport the other week, and I heard something concerning you that I have to tell you about."

"What could you have possibly have heard about _me_ in the Shreveport mall?"

I shift a little. Suddenly my plan seems utterly ludicrous; but I have to go on, I've already said it. "Look, mind-reading isn't an exact science, okay? I was in the mall and I passed someone and got a flash from their brain about a vampire named Hadley; that's not exactly a common name, and you've been missing for years, so I read her some more."

Hadley sits back on the sofa and her leather squeaks again. I don't have to fight a smile this time. "Anyway, I guess she was a meal for a vampire named Waldo a few weeks ago."

Hadley sits back up at this. Good. So far so good. Here's the tricky part. Based on what I saw of Waldo back when he came to the house in Timeline A, it seems plausible, but suddenly a million possibilities spring up that I haven't considered: What if Waldo only feeds on males? What if he has really specific feeding habits that make my story totally impossible? Shit.

There's nothing for it but to plunge ahead.

"She passed out after he fed on her, but when she woke up Waldo was still in the room, pacing back and forth muttering to himself. He said a lot of things, but the gist of what the human heard was that he wants to find a way to get rid of his competition. He said something about 'getting Hadley alone,' and well, this part didn't really make sense: something about Marie Laveau the voodoo queen." Hadley's eyes widen. "Look, I wasn't even sure if this had anything to do with you, but when Bill said that you were indeed a vampire, I figured I'd better let you know."

"Where is this woman now? The one you read?"

"I don't know, I just hovered around her for a few minutes. She didn't know anything more than what I just told you." I have to make sure Hadley knows that there is nothing else for me or my phantom human to give. "She just kept thinking '_Creepy albino vampire Waldo… never going near him again… plotting some chick named Hadley's murder right in front of me… freak… voodoo queen, what bull… god, I should just go back to the farm…_'

"Her thoughts were really fragmented; that's all I got. Do you… know a vampire named Waldo?" Hadley's eyes dart to the bedroom for a split second and I feel like ice water has been poured down my back. I just assumed that Hadley was alone in the apartment, but I now scan and sense that there is another vampire reading coming from her bedroom.

Shit, shit, shit. Waldo isn't _here_ is he?

I can sense the vampire coming toward the door, and brace myself for an attack. Damn it! How could I be so stupid?!

The door clicks, and I look up to see the Queen of Louisiana in all her glory. She has on dozens of gold bangles and a beautiful, flowing red dress.

Her lips are the same color red as the dress, and I watch them move.

"Oh yes, we know a Waldo."

***********************************************************************************************************************************************

*Thanks to peppermintyrose for pointing out that Jason does not invite Uncle Bartlett in the books, just in the TV show. Oops; call it artistic license! Thanks also to Birdwoman95 for sending me a link to CH's One Word Answer, which I had not read, but the events of which were pivotal to this chapter!


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

_Eric POV_

Sookie is not home.

Irritation wells up in me. It is nine at night, where could she be? I begin to feel something else, but as I enter the house I see a note on the table addressed to me. My irritation ebbs. Good, she is probably out getting grocery items and will be back shortly. I pick up the note and my mild irritation spikes into rage.

_Hi Eric,_

_I just realized that I forgot to tell you last night that I'm going to visit my cousin Hadley in New Orleans tonight. I shouldn't be there long, I just need to tell her a few things and then I'm coming back. I'll call you when I am on my way; hopefully we can still see each other._

_~Sookie_

_P.S. I also left you a voice-mail, sorry if you came all the way down here!_

I check my phone and note that I do indeed have a voicemail. In my haste to get here I did not look at my phone.

I have the urge to throw my phone against the wall, but settle for crumpling the note into a tiny, dense ball between my palms. Hadley, the vampire that told the Queen about Sookie's telepathy in the first place. How would Sookie even know where to find her?

Bill.

I am at the Compton house faster than you can say "I am going to kill Bill Compton."

I enter without knocking and find Bill resting on the sofa reading a book. How nice; send Sookie off to the wolves and enjoy a quiet evening reading a book. He sits up and asks: "Eric, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

I stroll toward him. "I was just in the neighborhood." In the next moment my face is inches from his, and my arms rest on either side of his shoulders on the sofa. I restrain myself from physically touching him. I may outrank him, but if I do him serious harm, he will be able to bring charges against me.

His eyes widen slightly. "I take it this is not a social call."

I smile. "No Bill. I am here to ask you a very simple question: Why, given everything we have seen of Sookie's ability, did you allow her to go into the heart of the Queen's territory, alone, at night?"

Bill attempts to move out from under my arms but I don't allow it.

"Answer." I say it in the commanding tone that Pam can't help but obey. I rarely have to use it with Pam.

Then Bill does something that makes me want to rip his head off: He rolls his eyes at me.

"Eric, calm yourself. This is not a matter to worry yourself over. Sookie is visiting her cousin. She will not be in danger. For one so new Hadley is very controlled, and is one of the Queen's favorites. What exactly do you think will happen? The Queen has seen how useful Sookie is, no harm will come to her."

"Bill, your ignorance surprises me. No, I do not imagine the Queen will feed on Sookie, or damage her, though we both know it would be within her rights to do so. No, I imagine she will only speak with her. But what will that lead to Bill? Any contact the Queen has with her endangers Sookie."

"She isn't meeting the Queen, just her cousin. I notified the Queen that she was coming of course, but made it clear that she simply wanted to speak with--"

I back away from him now. "Bill, you are a fool. The Queen will be there."

Bill huffs a breath. He is so _human_ sometimes. "Even so, I think you are blowing this out of proportion. You are too concerned with keeping Sookie all to yourself. Is that what this is about? Are you angry she came to me rather than you? Well--" His eyes meet mine.

He stops. My teeth are bared.

He clears his throat. "No disrespect meant. The address is over on the table by the door if you are so concerned."

With that I am gone, taking the address with me.

I consider ripping the front door off its hinges, but I will find a better way to punish Bill later.

* * *

_Sookie POV_

I must look like a goldfish, wide eyes, mouth gaping. The Queen doesn't seem to notice. Maybe she get's that a lot.

Hadley looks almost as surprised as me for about a second. I guess the Queen had planned to stay hidden. How nice, considering I specifically asked Bill that I only see Hadley. She walks toward us and settles lightly onto the arm-rest of the sofa. Only a Queen could rest in such an awkward location and make it look elegant.

Hadley shakes herself and makes introductions. "Sookie, this is the Queen of Louisiana."

I bow my head a little, "Pleased to meet you, I'm--"

"I know who you are."

Right.

"You have made very serious accusations against one of my favorites." Her face barely moves. If I hadn't been staring at her ruby lips I would have thought there was a ventriloquist in the room.

"Er, well, I just thought I'd let Hadley know. I didn't mean any disrespect… m'am, your majesty."

"Waldo and Hadley do not get on, it is true. However, it seems foolish to put any stock in the rambling mind of a human; especially a human recently fed upon."

I gulp. Jeez, she's going to discredit my whole case! "I just wanted to give Hadley a heads-up. I don't pretend to know anything about this vampire stuff." Yes, there. Play the dumb blonde.

"Your contracts and previous dealings with our kind would prove otherwise. I must say, I wanted to be here tonight to see what all the fuss is about." She looks me up and down. "I do not understand it."

Well! Maybe playing dumb isn't the right move after all.

Hadley speaks up then. "I actually…do have plans to visit the grave of Marie Laveau tomorrow night with Waldo." She looks uncomfortable.

The Queen's eyes move to her. "Alone?"

If Hadley could blush, she would be blushing. She ducks her head slightly. "Yes, he said the ritual would work better with fewer people around…"

The Queen continues to look at her. Her face is like a porcelain mask. She turns back to me. "Thank you for the information. I will send a guard to track Waldo tomorrow night. If he attempts to harm Hadley, he will be stopped." She stands and addresses Hadley as if I'm not here. "Come to me in the hour before sunrise. We will discuss this privately."

The Queen leaves and Hadley looks after her. She looks so self-conscious, it makes her look human. After a minute she looks up at me, as if she's surprised I'm still here. "The Queen thinks the Marie Laveau thing is stupid. She is seeing… She refused to tell me anything about the ritual; the only one that would help me was Waldo. I was so fascinated with the possibility that I could be related to her that I was blind to his motive."

She looks away. "Stupid."

I put my hand over Hadley's. "It's not stupid to want to be something special. I bet you're surrounded by all sorts of amazing people all the time; it'd be hard to be new, and to not have something to your name." _It would also be hard to be pushed aside for an arranged marriage_, I think. No wonder Hadley wanted to feel she was something special.

She's still looking away. "They all accept me well enough, but like I'm a new puppy, or, god, more like I'm an attractive new lawn ornament. Waldo's the worst of them. He hates me. He thinks I'm not worthy of the Queen."

"People will do crazy things when they are unhappy. I'm not excusing what Waldo is planning, but I've known good people to do much worse." It's not the greatest transition, but I wanted to get this across to Hadley almost as much as I want to save her life.

"I knew this were; he was a good guy, but he got really hurt. He was dying, and the only way to save him was to turn him. A vampire turned him, but that didn't save him. He went on existing, but he hated every minute of it. He hated himself." Hadley turns to look at me.

"I don't know how much you know about weres, but turning into their other form is like breathing to them. He couldn't anymore. He was stuck between two worlds, all alone. All he wanted was to die, but he became twisted, and his own death wasn't enough. He ended up joining up with the Fellowship and betraying a lot of people."

"You're saying Waldo wants to kill me because he hates what he is?"

"I think he does. He may love being a vampire, but he can never be what you are: young, attractive, full of an energy that captures the Queen's attention. He is a wrinkled, albino sadist, and that's what he hates."

Hadley nods, seemingly unconsciously, and asks: "The vampire who turned to were… what happened to them?"

I'm careful not to use a specific pronoun. "They died."

She shakes her head. "What an idiot. I would never turn a were. How could you even get close enough? They smell horrible." Her nose wrinkles as if a dead fish was put under it.

I hide a grin. Now there's the Hadley I remember. "You'd be surprised what people do out of love or mercy. Even vampires." _Especially vampires_, I think, thinking of Stan.

"Yeah well, obviously that wasn't mercy."

"Yeah," I say "You're right."

Hopefully Hadley will have the sense to leave Jake as he is; dying as he would want: a were.

Dead, but whole.

I almost hug Hadley as I go. There is so much more I want to say to her: How I'll be here to help Hunter. I want to warn her and the Queen about Peter Threadgill's treachery. But I can't. Hopefully in time Hadley will seek me out to help Hunter. The Queen shouldn't be caught without her bracelet now (Hadley can just give it back), but he will probably still attempt a take-over by force. I can't focus on that now. I need to get home and think about the Bill situation some more. I only have a few more days before Lorena lures him away with her siren's song.

I walk out of the building and pause to consider visiting Amelia. I have no idea what I would say. No. No more rushing head-on into things.

I take a few steps and hear something to my left.

I jump and turn to see the source of the noise: Andre edging toward me.

*************************************************************************************************************************************************

Thanks for all the comments! Some of them helped to shape parts of this chapter (kind of like one of those old 'choose your own adventure' books). I like to read what everyone is wondering about most; it keeps me from going off on tangents…

Please let me know if you see any typos; I was up until five painting!

**Update: Aug 9, 2009. I tried to update yesterday and today, but the site keeps giving me error messages! I will keep at it; and update should be up as soon as it will let me!**


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

_Sookie POV_

First Longshadow, now Andre. I should really, really stop walking out to my car alone at night.

Panic grips me as the memory of Rhodes comes rushing back.

_It's okay, it's okay. Calm down Sookie. He's not going to try to bond with you… you're not that valuable yet.. I hope_. Oh god. Why did I come here again? What could have possibly possessed me to come alone?

Andre speaks: "Her majesty the Queen of Louisiana requests an audience with you at her estate at once."

An audience. Is that just a meeting, or is it secret vampire-code for "The Queen wants to torture and bind you"? I take a deep breath, trying to think of a way out of this. It's only been a few seconds, but to a vampire, that's like waiting five minutes, and I can tell Andre is growing impatient for a reply.

I might as well try to talk my way out of this; no sense submitting like a lamb to the slaughter. "Oh. Well, have her contact Mr. Cataliades, my representative, and we can work something out." I start to move toward my car and suddenly Andre is right in front of me.

"'Requests' is perhaps not the best word. The Queen _requires_ your presence _now_. I will take you to her."

Crap, I bet he can hear my heart beating faster. Just keep him talking.

Right, great plan.

"Listen, you must understand why I can't come with you. I have no proof of who you are. If you were a human, would you just get into a strange car with a strange vampire just because he said the Queen sent him? This is why I have representatives. I will not be bullied. I would be happy to meet with the Queen in the coming week. If there is an urgent matter she needs to discuss with me, I can give you my cell phone number."

Andre looks at me as if all I've done for the past minute is bray like a donkey. He takes another step toward me, and I take a step back.

"If you insist on proof of my association with the Queen, we can go up and get confirmation from Hadley." He takes another step, and I mirror him to keep an arms-length between us. I edge back a bit more and feel the rough scrape of the brick of Hadley's building behind me. Great, my back is literally up against the wall.

Double crap. Can I get away with threatening to never work for the Queen if he tries to force me to go with him? Probably not. "You will come with me now." He's close now, almost touching, and there's no more backing away to do. Maybe I can buy more time up in Hadley's apartment.

My acquiescence to go to Hadley is on the tip of my tongue when out of nowhere Eric drops down out of the sky, landing lightly next to me. Before I can say peep he's grabbed my wrist and stands slightly in front of me.

He turns to me and says: "Sorry I'm late. Have you been waiting long?" His tone is casual. His arm goes around me and he somehow manages to pivot me so my back is no longer up against the wall. "Ah Andre. Are you here to visit Hadley as well?"

"I am here to retrieve the telepath." He turns to me. "The sheriff can attest to my allegiance to the Queen. Let us depart; we have already wasted too much time."

Eric turns to Andre with a mildly befuddled expression; which is contrasted by how tightly he is holding me. "Sookie is scheduled to work for me at Fangtasia tonight. Does Sookie have another appointment in the city I was not aware of?"

"The Queen requires her."

He nods. "Then we should not keep her waiting. Where are you parked?" Andre looks affronted that Eric has invited himself along, but can't seem to come up with a reason to forbid it. He hustles us into the back seat of a nearby BMW. I almost let out a small yell when I see who the driver is: Waldo.

What is the Queen playing at? Is she trying to scare me? Is she testing my loyalty; seeing if I'll warn Waldo? Maybe Waldo is the only vampire in her entourage who can drive stick shift? Eric holds my hand during the fifteen minute drive. I would be comforted, but the fact that he squeezes _really_ hard every few minutes makes me think it's actually a form of silent punishment.

I deserve it I guess. My cheeks color at my actions over the past few days. I've increasingly trusted Eric with everything: my pain, my guilt, my body… but for some reason I couldn't tell him about tonight. I wrote it off to being busy (I went back to work the same day I set things up with Bill), or tired, or absent minded; but really, I didn't want to tell him. I didn't want to him to come with me. I didn't want his help.

Stubborn Sookie, that's me.

So far I have been able to be so much more independent in my dealings with vampires; I wanted to keep it that way. No, I didn't really consciously think 'time to start hiding things from Eric,' but the truth is: I was afraid. Afraid to stir the Eric-and-Sookie pot. I wanted to do this alone; I needed to do this alone (however half-cocked and stupid that was), and I knew Eric wouldn't 'let' me. I knew it would be the end of our honeymoon phase; a shock back to the 'I'm a vampire and you'll do what I command' mentality.

Although, I suppose Eric never really did that that too much… I always just assumed it would go that way if we entered into an actual relationship. I hate that I'm so relieved he's here. I hate that I hate it. Our power dynamic is so messed up. I would never let a man tell me what I can and can't do, but the vampire aspect of things muddles everything. I feel like I want Eric to protect me, but I'm pissed that I need protection. That was Timeline A.

I realize that here in Timeline B, I want to earn a place not only with Eric, but with all vampires. I don't want to feel like Hadley does: like a toy; like something that is allowed, but not accepted.

For the first time I think about what I'm wearing: a close-fitting grey and black striped knit shirt and dark grey editor pants. I'm relieved that I swung toward the professional end when deciding what to wear to Hadley's. I'd considered clothes that were more "me," a light cotton dress, or capri's and a tank top. I figured she'd be more apt to take me seriously in this. I'd rather be dressed to the nines like I was in Dallas, but at least I don't look like I'm supposed to be taking out the trash. If things get messy I can at least hold on to some modicum of professionalism.

As we pull up to a large gate, Waldo pulls off to the side and punches in a long code, and then presses his thumb up to a little pad. Wow, fingerprint clearance; I've only ever seen that in movies. I wonder how long a vampire thumb could be preserved after it's been cut off the body? Eww.

We drive for several minutes up a winding road. Eric's finally stopped the hand-squeezing and his fingers intertwine with mine. I feel nervous. Will Eric have to intervene on my behalf as he did in Rhodes? The Queen can't want to force me to bond, can she? I always liked the Queen well enough, and put Andre's actions only on him… but maybe the _Queen_ sent him after me. She _is_ Queen for a reason after all. It would make sense to be nice to me, and then have Andre do all the dirty work for her.

I shutter as we pull to a stop in front of the Queen's mansion. It's huge and white, and looks to be about twenty-times the size of my house. I steel myself and let go of Eric's hand as we get out of the car. I want the comfort of his hand in mine, but if there is any way to maintain my independence in front of the Queen, I want to. I appreciate that being in a relationship with Eric may ease the Queen's mind about my allegiances, but that isn't the impression I want to make this time. I don't want the Queen to think Eric has any power over me.

I raise my head high. I am a professional telepath.

We walk down several long entryways and pass through several security doors. After the first one I lose track of all the turns we make; I hope Eric knows his way around this place. We take an elevator down to what I assume is the basement; Andre hit the lowest button, but the only symbol on it is a square. Getting off the elevator, my breath stalls as I take everything in. We are in a huge hall, almost as big as a ballroom. There are dozens of doors lining the distant walls. There must be even more of the Queen's estate underground than there is above. My eyes feel overloaded. Everything in sight is draped in gold, or deep red or pearl or something equally as beautiful. Contrasting the vivid walls, the floor is pure white marble, buffed to perfection. A huge golden chandelier hangs above our heads.

Suddenly I feel very small, and very insignificant. I guess that's the point.

I raise my head higher as we are led toward the end of the hall. After a short time I see that we are headed toward a large structure on the far wall. Amidst the intricate gold, silver and red mural, I don't see her at first, but as we get closer I can make out the Queen's small form up on a raised platform. She is sitting, waiting with perfect stillness.

I choke back a laugh as I realize that she is on a literal throne. A throne! I will say one thing for the Queen, she has some major dramatic flare about her. Eric is becoming more tense beside me, and I shake myself. This is serious.

Once we are about five paces away Andre and Eric stop and bow deeply. I hesitate for a second. Curtsey? Bow? I settle for a wobbly curtsey-bow-head-nod.

Heck, the Queen knows I'm an American from the South. Maybe I should take some bowing lessons though; the Queen is looking at me quite oddly, like she can't make any sense of what I've done. Andre moves up to stand beside her, and stairs straight ahead. We stand there in silence for several minutes.

I'm not really sure what the protocol is here. I glance at Eric, but he's not giving anything away. If I had to guess, I'd say the Queen is trying to smoke me out. Get me to ask why I'm here. Well, she's got another thing coming. After years of too many people in my head, I could stand quietly in a room full of vampires all day and not blink an eye.

The Queen's eye's rake over me, and I continue to calmly wait. By the time we hit what seems like the five minute mark, the Queen has a small smile on her face, and finally she speaks:

"You are willful."

I almost smile myself. Stubborn Sookie, that's me. It seems rude to say nothing… "I suppose I am; though I'd like to think of it as a positive. I wouldn't have gotten out of a lot of the tight scrapes I've been in if I wasn't."

The Queen looks at Andre, and they have some kind of silent exchange I can't read. Finally she speaks: "Willful servants are the very worst kind; though I do enjoy breaking them." She's grinning now. I have no idea what is going on. Did she just bring me here to try to intimidate me? Well, I don't think so. I _am_ a professional, and I have no qualms about reminding her of that, Queen or no.

I take a deep breath and carefully keep my eyes on her face. "I'll count myself lucky that I'm a contracted employee then, and not a servant."

The corners of her mouth turn up a bit more at this. She turns to Eric. "Ah yes, and how have you found having a willful employee?"

Eric nods his head out of respect and says: "Sookie is competent and works well independent of supervision and direction. She has helped the bar run more efficiently, and dissuaded a maenad from targeting the bar.

The Queen's eyes shift back to me, but she continues to speak with Eric. "You hired her as a negotiator in dealing with a maenad?"

"No, she did that on her own. As I said, she works well independently."

"And what was her fee for this negotiation?"

"She did not ask for… she was not compensated." Eric is looking more and more troubled.

The Queen turns to me and asks me her first direct question. "Why did you not request payment?"

"It was not planned. I make contracts for specific jobs. Pam and I encountered the maenad, and I just did what I thought was best at the time. There is a clause about unforeseeable circumstances in my contract, but I didn't see the need to seek payment." Where is she going with this?

"So you will not be seeking compensation for the information you provided in Hadley's apartment?"

I can see Eric looking at me out of the corner of my eye. "No, as far as I'm concerned that was not a business matter. I was warning my cousin, that's all."

She nods. "Very well. I have heard all I need to hear. I would like to formally offer you a position as my personal telepath. You will stay here; you will have all worldly luxuries available to you. I have already contacted Mr. Cataliades to draw up formal paperwork."

Huh. _A job offer_? Not exactly the doom and gloom I was expecting. I glance at Andre, and see a hungry gleam in his eye. Right, so, probably the job offer is just the first stop on the way to bondville. No thanks.

I bite down hard on the inside of my mouth. How exactly do you turn down the Queen of Louisiana?

Somehow I don't think 'no thanks' is going to cut it.

*******************************************************************************************************************************************************

Thanks for waiting on this one! I tried to post yesterday and the day before, but the site wouldn't let me log on :$

I went ahead and added some of what was going to be the next chapter into this one. It may be a couple days til the next...


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

_POV The Queen(!)_

I have somewhat absently monitored the telepath until now. Honestly, I thought very little of her, confident that Eric's interaction with her would either bare fruit, or reveal her as incompetent. Tonight her visit to Hadley has shown me that perhaps I should be watching her more closely.

She stands before me now, face blank. I cannot tell if it is a mask, hiding some greater intelligence, or if she really is just another cow in the herd.

How she handles herself here will give me some idea.

I let them stand in silence as I consider what brought them here. I did not expect Eric, but he may be useful. My suspicions were first roused when the communiqué from Dallas came directly from Stan. Usually when loaning out personnel, one of the minor underlings will write a quick note with the payment, and that is that. What I received was a lengthy letter from Stan, a vampire I have known for over four-hundred years; who is generally a vampire of few words, if any.

Stan wrote two paragraphs detailing the efficiency and competency of the human telepath, requesting that he be informed of any major changes in her terms of employ in the future. Stan is not easily impressed. Stan is especially not easily impressed by a human. Telepaths are rare. I have met only one, in the seventeenth century. She had been driven mad with it, and was locked away for the duration of her life by the church.

Needless to say, this has formed my impression of telepaths as somewhat tragic, insane creatures. The woman before me is rather contradictory to that impression. Overly confident, calm.

She _still_ isn't speaking. Perhaps she is more clever than I thought; or simply bull-headed. I tell her so.

Her response makes me smile. She is a spit-fire, just like her cousin.

What I have seen this evening is in sharp contrast to what Eric has reported. Bill's reports have been entirely positive, but he claims the human rarely exhibits extraordinary telepathic ability. Eric also pegs her as useful, but nothing to lower fang over.

Eric is a good sheriff. The danger is that he is _too_ good.

He could easily have taken the thrown of any of the states long ago, but purports to want a simpler existence. Many a vampire has claimed to want a simple life right before reigning down devastation and destruction in a massive grab for power. I trust Eric to a certain extent, but I am beginning to wonder if his interest in this human isn't more than it seems.

She may be a powerful tool; a tool fit for a queen.

Or perhaps, he is thinking, for a sheriff? Something tells me Eric has not been entirely forthright in his assessment of her. For example, this business with the maenad; why not report her involvement with the maenad before? I thought perhaps a first he was covering up having to pay her extra funds; perhaps she used the event to extort money. But no, it turns out she did it out of _good will_. She has the makings of an excellent servant: clever, loyal and reasonable. She would be easy to mold; she would be a great asset indeed in my coming nuptials.

Andre shifts infinitesimally to my left. Andre; dear Andre of course wants to chain her up in the basement, or bond her right away. My little turtle dove Andre, so impatient. It is why he will never be king. He cannot see into the motivations of others; he cannot command by anything but fear.

I hold power over my subjects through love. Love is a bond much stronger than hate or fear or even blood. Love is the reason Eric is no threat to me. Not matter how he is respected by his subordinates, they will never feel loved by him. They will never love him. They will never risk everything for him.

If she is correct about Waldo (which I have no doubt she is), she will have impressed Stan, stopped a maenad and saved Hadley, my little jewel.

Yes, it would be useful to keep her close. I will give her a home, provide her with everything, and eventually she will be mine.

And she will love me.

* * *

_Sookie POV_

I've got nothing.

All I can think to tell the Queen is the truth.

Well, the truth will set you free, right?

"Thank you so much for the opportunity." I begin. Eric shifts slightly next to me. "To be perfectly honest, I would be happy to work for you, and offer my services whenever you have the need. That said; I have a life that I am living. I have friends and family in Bon Temps. I have a house to maintain and a cat. I like my life, and I plan to continue to live it as it is." Okay, so maybe mentioning Tina was a little over the top; but I am grasping at straws here.

The Queen looks like she can't believe what she is hearing. Andre steps forward and begins to say something (probably 'You will bond with me now!'), but the Queen holds up her hand to stop him.

"I _do_ wish you would reconsider, Sookie." Oh lord, using my name is pulling out the big guns.

I brace myself to reject the offer again, when Hadley appears at the Queen's feet. To me it looked like she came out of no where, but none of the vampires around me seem the least bit surprised. Hadley is kneeling, not saying anything, but I shift to see her face and can see trails of milky blood running out of her eyes.

The Queen's hand shifts from its raised position to stop Andre, to tilt Hadley's head up. She continues to cry silent red tears. They seem to be having some kind of silent conversation, until Hadley blurts out: "And now you're replacing me with her! My own cousin!" Her arm zooms out to point perfectly at me even though she is not looking at me and I am behind her.

The Queen actually looks distressed for a moment, before pulling Hadley up to sit in her lap. It's a very strange image. Not only because the Queen looks so much younger and smaller than Hadley, but because it is so intimate. I look away.

She shushes Hadley quietly until she's calmed down. "You are not replaced. You could never be replaced." Hadley shakes her head a little and says something about 'husband.'

The Queen's face sets, and I can see her body stiffen.

Awkward as it is, I see a chance to make my case. "Hadley, you are not being replaced. This is just business. I work as professional telepath now, and the Queen is just offering me a job."

Her head comes up and she glares at me. "She wants you _live_ with her! Do you know that she shuffled me out to that apartment after having me live here for over a year?! All because she's engaged to a pompous--"

The Queen hisses and Hadley stops. "I will not explain again the importance of the marriage Hadley." Her harsh tone is tempered by wrapping her arms around Hadley again. "It is not a romantic marriage. You are too young; it is more like a business deal, I have _told_ you this; and your cousin is not taking your place."

I take a step forward. "Hadley, she only offered to have me live here as incentive to work for her. What the Queen doesn't know, is that she doesn't have to try to bribe me, or win my loyalty through grand offers or subterfuge." The Queen shifts to look at me; actually, everyone does.

The truth will set you free…

"The Queen has done so much for you, and her people have been really great to me. I am already loyal to the Queen, and to the state of Louisiana. As long as my contracts are followed, and I don't feel threatened, I will gladly work for her, and do my best for her. Telepathy is based greatly on comfort and focus. I am comfortable living in Bon Temps, and working on a contract basis. I have told the Queen this, and I am sure she will honor that." My tone is comforting, but firm.

There, now if the Queen forces me to do anything, not only will she be violating my contract with Eric (which states that I am only working for him unless another contract is formed, which I suppose is what the Queen was trying with her 'personal telepath' contract), but I've convinced Hadley that any move at me other than with absolute professionalism will be a confirmation of some kind that the Queen is abandoning her. And yes, I do consider myself loyal to the Queen in a way. She is a good Queen, and she loves Hadley. I hope she listens.

The Queen nods at me once and turns back to Hadley. "You see, even your cousin knows that I would never abandon you. This business about Peter must stop."

Hadley still looks like a pouty two year old, but she gets up and wipes her face. I think I catch Andre rolling his eyes, but a second later he's as statuesque as he was before.

"Well, I came here to talk to you about tomorrow, so I'll just wait in your sitting room." She doesn't look at me as she quickly leaves through one of the many ornate doors.

The Queen is looking at me again, and again I wait her out.

"You seem to know your cousin well, for not having contact with her for years."

I shrug. "Even as a child Hadley needed a lot of attention." _Try all the attention_, I think.

"And this 'loyalty' of yours… forgive me if I do not believe you."

I smile. "I don't expect you to. I just tend to follow my instincts. You love Hadley, which I don't think many vampires would allow themselves. Eric trusts you, and I trust Eric. I honestly don't feel very trusting of him," I say pointing to Andre, "and would prefer to never be left alone with him, but the fact is that you don't have to believe that I won't betray you. I am a professional. We will work through contracts that protect us both."

The Queen looks me up and down again, but this time it is not a calculated assessment, but open curiosity. "_Are_ you human?"

My smile widens. "I'm a telepath."

*************************************************************************************************************************************************

**Next up: The Eric/Sookie confrontation! Dun dun duuuuuuun!**


	37. Chapter 37

**Warning: the below is rated M, _very_ M. You have been warned.**

* * *

_Chapter 37_

_Sookie POVff_

Eric hustles me out of the hall after the Queen exits, and I have to acknowledge that I am just as motivated to get out of here. I start to talk to him in the elevator, but he just shakes his head and motions for me to wait. I guess if the Queen's doors open with finger prints, it's not such a crazy idea to think that she would have security cameras/listening devices.

As much as I want to get out of the mansion, I know that every step I take is bringing me closer to a confrontation with Eric about tonight's events.

I expect a car to be waiting at the front, but instead of waiting for one to pull up, Eric sweeps me up and we are fifty feet up before I can blink.

I manage a "meep," but it is quickly lost in the wind.

I chance a glance at Eric, and see that he is looking straight ahead. In other words, not at me.

My gut tightens.

Okay, fine, I can use the 'flight' to think. What can I say to defend my actions? 'I thought it was for the best'… hmm, crap. That's probably not going to hold water. I had this all codified for myself before I left. I guess there's the fact that things worked out... but I know as much as he does that it could have totally blown up in my face.

I hate being in the wrong. I hate having no idea how he's going to react. I can imagine several scenarios; I let my mind wander over them as we fly: A) He could be pissed and just drop me off at my car and ignore me; torturing me with silence. B) He could yell at me, and scold me for being so foolish. C) He could glaze over this whole issue and fuck me senseless.

Somehow 'C' seems more like wishful thinking. I'm probably in for some combination of all three… or some left-field 'D' option I can't even imagine. Not knowing is driving me crazy.

I look down and no longer see the city beneath us. "Um, Eric, where are we going?"

"I am taking you back to Bon Temps."

Okay. "What about my car?"

…

"Eric?"

"Pam will drive it back."

I don't chance asking anything else. He still hasn't looked at me. I huddle a little closer in his arms to brace against the wind. We must be going pretty fast, I glance at the ground again and can't make anything out. Whether that's due to the speed or the darkness I can't tell.

I try to think about other things: Bill's upcoming trip to "Seattle," for one, but my mind keeps coming back to Eric.

The more I think, the worse I feel, and the worse I feel, the angrier I get. Yes, my actions were stupid and rash, but damn it! What was I supposed to do? Gran's death pushed my plans back so far that I had to rush off to save Hadley. And, okay, yes I could have told Eric. I could have asked Eric to come with me, but he works for the Queen too. He hasn't said anything about what we are doing, or what we are to each other. I'm sure he hasn't said anything about our relationship to the Queen. I was just doing what I thought was best. Suddenly that doesn't sound as weak. I can't tell if I'm just riling myself up, or if I actually do have a leg to stand on here.

Is it so outrageous that I made decisions for myself? How can Eric be mad about me not telling him when for all intents and purposes we've only been together for a couple of weeks? And _are_ we together? We still haven't had that talk.

By the time we touch down at my house I'm fuming, and raring for a fight.

As soon as I'm settled however, Eric begins to take off.

Oh shit! Option D: Totally ditching me as soon as possible!

My cheeks burn as I realized that tears are welling up in my eyes. I can't believe he's just leaving. Have I totally misread this whole thing? Has he just plain had enough?

"Where—where are you going?" I try not to sound as devastated as I feel. He's already three stories up, but his super vampire hearing catches my question. He quickly descends back down to my level, but stays airborne.

"I have some things to take care of. I may be able to come by later."

He doesn't sound mad. He doesn't sound anything. 'He may be able to come by later.' I blink to clear my eyes, and when I look up again, he's gone. I want to scream and cry and stomp my feet. I settle for stomping into the house. I do the dishes, dust the downstairs and take a shower. As I scrub at my face in the shower I let any tears that want to fall, fall. They all mix in with the water anyway. Crying in the shower almost doesn't count.

By the time I get out I'm at my wit's end. I have no idea where Eric is, or how long he'll be, or… oh. _Oh._

I suppose this is exactly how he must have felt earlier this evening. Only, I'm pretty sure he's not in terrible danger. I'm pretty sure he's not risking my well-being in a half-cocked plan.

I feel my face get hot as I blush. At the very least I should have told him; told him myself, in person…

I take a deep breath and start drying my hair. This is a new start for us…well, an _actual_ start for us. It's been going so well up until now. If Eric comes back, no, when Eric comes back, I am going to explain as best I can and have a real grown-up conversation about what is going on between us, and what happened tonight. If I want him to take our relationship seriously, I have to too.

No more running. No more rescinding invitations or ignoring calls when things get difficult.

I watch as my reflection in the mirror shifts from grim determination to a crafty grin.

Now, what can I wear that will get me the most sympathy?

* * *

_Eric POV_

I am, as the humans would say 'totally in the shitter.'

A half-mile away from the house I call Pam to inform her that the rest of her night will involve going to New Orleans and driving Sookie's car back to Bon Temps. When Sookie asked about her car I hadn't even given it a thought; I was concerned with only one thing: getting away from the Queen as quickly as possible. I am getting sloppy.

I double back and start searching the woods around her house. I wouldn't put it past the Queen to send Siegbert or some other goon after Sookie right away. I just hope it's not Andre. Sookie is maddening. I seem to be unable to predict what she will do; and unable to predict what others will do when interacting with her.

She is utterly unpredictable.

It's possible that the Queen really does plan to capitulate; it would be the first time in a thousand years that she has followed the wishes of a human, but I suppose it's possible.

That is not entirely true. She submitted to Hadley's desire to be turned, even though she knew it would not be… ideal. Perhaps there is something about Sookie's family that vampires cannot deny? I've searched the entire property, and see no signs of foul play. I would call on Bubba to start keeping watch over her, but Bubba's movements must be reported to the Queen. As much as I hate it, I may have to have Bill look after her. He is the only one short of hiring a were that could protect Sookie against any action the Queen might take on short notice.

I make some calls and decide what to do. I know I should go back to Shreveport and leave Sookie to consider her actions. I should go back and consider if all this is really worth it.

Bill's words play again in my mind: _You are too concerned with keeping Sookie all to yourself. Is that what this is about? Are you angry she came to me rather than you?_

I cannot hide from myself. Mostly, I am angry that Sookie was so careless, and put us both in a compromising position; but I am also… upset… that she did not even have the consideration to tell me what she was doing. She put herself in danger. That, in turn riles me. I have committed to making Sookie mine, but did not consider that in the process I would somehow also become hers. Keeping our relationship from the Queen for much longer is not wise, but without a blood bond, I will appear weak.

I grow increasing frustrated; there are no good options here.

Without really deciding anything I fly directly to her bedroom window, which has become a habit over the last few weeks. She is curled up in the chair across from her bed reading a book. I can smell fresh cleaning products downstairs, and the soothing moist soap-smell from her shower. She must have showered recently; her hair is still slightly damp around the ends, and tumbles over her shoulders in loose curls. Instead of a nightgown, she is wearing small, plaid cotton draw-string shorts and a white tank top. The tips of her damp hair touch the tank top just above her breasts, turning the fabric translucent.

As if she has felt my stare, she looks up, meeting my eyes. I feel paralyzed. Paralyzed by anger, and need and some other emotion I cannot face.

She opens the window, and holds out her hand to me, as if to help me in. I almost laugh at the idea of this frail human helping me into the room as if I would fall, but stop at the memory of when I _actually_ almost did. I ignore her and move into the room as if I own it. It is time for Sookie to learn that though I have been letting her set the tone, I will not be disrespected. I will not be mislead, or lied to or fooled.

We both want control, and the nights of me freely handing it over to her are numbered. Her face sets with determination, and I prepare for a verbal battle.

"I'm sorry" she says.

I can only look surprised.

She is utterly unpredictable.

* * *

_Sookie POV_

He sits outside my window for Lord knows how long before I look up. I've been sitting here with a paper back for thirty minutes trying to read. I just keep reading the same sentence. I open the window and he strides past me to stand several feet in front of my door. The light from the hall casts a faint glow around him and I press my lips at how amazing he looks. Here we go…

"I'm sorry." He just stands there. I know they aren't magic words. I can't just say that and have everything work out. After what seems like an eternity, he says:

"What exactly are you apologizing for?"

"I should have told you what I was planning. It indirectly involved you too. It was dangerous, and I didn't think it through."

His brows rise. "But you left me a _note_. Surely that was sufficient." He practically sneers the word 'note,' and I fight to keep clam.

"All I can say is that I did what I thought was best at the time, and that I'm sorry for threatening your position with the Queen. I had to go to Hadley; but I should have told you in person, and not gone around you to Bill."

He bristles at the mention of Bill, and I hurry on. "I didn't mean to deceive you. I think, subconsciously I knew you would try to stop me, and I didn't want that. I didn't want to fight with you. I didn't want to face what it would mean for us… I don't know what we even _are_ Eric. Do you?"

His face is blank, and I can tell he is thinking. "Do not try to shift this to a conversation about our relationship Sookie. What happens the next time you feel the need to run off? Do you have any idea what you have even _done_?"

Oh God, he looks furious. What can I say to that? _Do_ I know what I've done? Is there something he knows that I don't? I don't think so. I feel my anger getting the better of me, and I blurt out: "_Me_ run off? What was that earlier? You just flew off without a second thought!" I feel the sting again of watching him leave.

Suddenly he is right in front of me; I get the impression he was purposely keeping his distance until now, like a straining sling-shot finally let loose. "I was searching the property for threats; strategizing how to keep _you_ alive. The Queen now finds you interesting; there is not a more dangerous position you could be in; it would be better to have angered her." He's practically humming with rage.

The anger ebbs out of me and I look away. "I'm sorry if I messed things up for you."

He grabs my shoulders. "You are not listening. I am fine. The Queen may soon find out that I have been coming to see you; that is of little consequence. She may chastise me, or assume I am trying to take you from her. Whatever the outcome the punishment will not be great. You, Sookie. _You_ are in danger now. For that I cannot forgive you." He looks shocked.

He's mad that I was in danger.

It's probably not the best idea to tell him that I really do think that the Queen plans to leave me alone.

My heart swells.

He really cares about me. I smile and laugh. Gran was right.

Eric lets go of my shoulders, and I take the opportunity to jump him. If he were human he probably would have stumbled back with the force of it. I practically climb up his body until my arms are around his neck. I smatter kisses all over his face and neck, and start to tear at his shirt.

He sighs and wraps his arms around me. "You are utterly unpredictable."

All the anger and frustration of this evening is expelled as we strip each other's clothes off. It occurs to me as I fumble with the button on his dark denim jeans that we didn't really have the conversation about our relationship that I wanted, but all thoughts in that direction disappear as I pull the denim down to discover that he isn't wearing anything underneath.

He kicks off the pants and now stands naked in all his glory. I'm a little behind, still in my panties and tank top. He literally rips off my underwear and lifts me up firmly gripping my butt. I expect him to take us to the bed, but instead he pushes me up against the wall next to the doorway out into the hall. I have a bit of déjà vu to our 'first' meeting in his office. I won't be telling him to stop this time.

I gasp as he grasps my breasts through my thin tank top, which is now all I have on (I decided to strategically go sans bra). He holds me against the wall with the rest of his body as he lifts my left breast slightly and brings his mouth down to suck my nipple into his mouth through the shirt. He jabs at me relentlessly with his tongue, alternating between the left and the right. I can't help but groan as little shock-waves of pleasure ripple through me; my mind thinks of the other places his tongue could be, thrusting in and out.

Oh sweet Lord.

He plays with my nipples through the shirt until I'm practically crying. Finally he pulls back, but only to gather the excess material of the shirt at my back, pulling it taught so that the fabric is stretched to its limit over my chest. The cotton that an hour ago felt soft against my skin is now feels rough as it scrapes against my abused flesh.

All the stimulation on such a small area has me begging for him to move somewhere else. My hands scramble over him; desperate to provide him some kind of stimulation in turn.

"Please" I choke out.

"Hmm, please what?" he asks, as he nuzzles my collar bone. I'm sure I'd see him smirking if I could focus on his face.

I grab his head, pulling at his hair, dragging his mouth to mine. I have never felt like this; even when I was with Eric before. I have never wanted him so much. I practically gnaw at his mouth, releasing my pent up frustration. I thrust my tongue violently in his mouth, showing him what I want.

I pull back and his eyes are sparkling. "Need you" I manage to mutter as I turn to his neck and bite down on his earlobe. I'm straddling him now, holding on to him with all the strength I have in my legs.

He lets his hand play over my stomach. "_Where_ do you need me?"

I growl now. A girl can only take so much. I take his hand and shift it lower, holding it firmly between my spread legs. I cry out in sharp relief as finally a part of him enters me. A single strong finger glides in while rubbing my clitoris. I grind down, determined to take all of him I can get. I'm shocked as I feel slight pain break through my haze of pleasure. Eric adds a second finger the pain increases. That's right… my body has been returned to its virginal state.

I look down and there is a small amount of blood. Eric looks too, and we watch as his fingers slowly thrust in and out of me. My legs are trembling now, and I can feel my grip on his neck loosening. He removes his fingers, and carefully carries me over to the bed. He spreads himself on top of me and his body covers mine; he looks intently into my eyes.

"I am the first to have you, my lover?"

Oh God, what a question. Now is not the time for a Timeline A/Timeline B discussion, but I don't want to lie (would it be lying to say yes… or no?), so I just kiss him. I know I should tell him. I will tell him… later. He moves down, lightly licking my tender nipples, down my stomach, finally reaching his goal.

He laps at me for a while; somehow I feel like I should be grossed out that he's tasting blood down there, but all I can seem to think now is _pleasegodfuckmetakemepleasepleaseplease_.

I can't take it anymore. I grab his shoulder and pull him back up, reaching down and grasping him. He hisses slightly as I run my fingers over him, stroking him toward me. I rub his length against my outer folds, coating him in the ridiculous amount of wetness that has accumulated between my thighs. I stroke him once, hard, and place him at my entrance.

"Now" I breath.

His fangs are fully down, and he's ready to stop playing. His hand joins mine and we both guide him into me slowly. It hurts again, but not in a way that would ever make me want to stop. More like pressure, a new pressure this body has never felt.

My heat has soaked into him and he no longer feels cool to the touch. When he's all the way in, he stops and looks at me. I arch my back, squeeze my internal muscles and smile up at him to let him know I'm okay. With a growl he starts thrusting into me, and I lose myself in the pleasure of it. His mouth moves up to my throat, but he just keeps his lips pressed to my pulse point. I realize that he must be waiting for permission.

I tilt my head to the side, and pull his face back so he can see me. I run one hand into his hair at the base of his skull, and let the other trail the other down his back.

"Take me" I say as I tilt my head farther, exposing my entire neck. His face reveals too many emotions, and I'm almost relieved when he looks away to bend down to bite. He slams back into me just as his fangs sink in. Explosions go off behind my eyes and I'm coming.

He only takes about how much I would give in a blood bank, but the suddenness of it makes me light-headed. He continues, shifting angles so he rubs up just right _there_ with every pass. I can feel sweat building on every part of me, and a second orgasm builds at the base of my spine. It hits me suddenly, and without thinking I bite down on the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

A mouthful of his blood flows into my mouth and I welcome it. He is only seconds behind, shouting my name as I take his blood into me.

* * *

_Eric POV_

Between Sookie's fae blood, and her natural talents, I have just had the best sex of my entire existence. I shake my head at the improbability of it all. I have had thousands of women. Hell, I have probably had thousands of _virgins_. She… how is she? I do not have words.

I pull her closer. After mumbling "That was amazing." She essentially passed out.

I slowly rip the fabric of the tiny shirt she'd been wearing down the middle. Easing it off of her form. Suddenly tonight's earlier events seem insignificant. She is mine.

She has finally taken my blood.

Willingly taken my blood.

I sense that the dawn is coming. I must talk to her about creating a resting place for me here. I lift her and place her under the covers, write her a quick note and place it on her bed stand.

The flight back to Shreveport seems to take no time, and I make it back to my resting place before the first rays of sun appear over the horizon.

I welcome dreams of Sookie this day.

* * *

My eyes shoot open. It is sunset. It is sunset, and I have dreamed. I have dreamed of things that seem impossible. I have seen Sookie not as she is now.

I remember.

*************************************************************************************************************************************************

**So, yes, huge cliff. I can only defend myself by saying that this chapter has been what we've all be waiting for, right? (And my longest to date to boot!). Hope the ESN (aka smut, haha) was alright; I will try to post again soon…**


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38

**Warning: 'M' rating**

* * *

_Eric POV_

I finally remember my dreams.

These months I have been having detailed dreams every night, but only remembered glimpses. Sookie's face; her hands on my feet. For months only flashes, and nothing more. Now I finally have coherent memories that are not fading.

But what are they?

They feel real. I have a sense that they are real. As real as anything that has happened to me. But what I have seen is impossible… except that if my one-thousand years on this earth has taught me anything, it is that nothing is impossible.

All of this started with Sookie. I had the first dream the night I met her, and now, after being with her last night, they are clear for the first time. The obvious common denominator is Sookie, but there is something else.

I only have to ponder for a few minutes before it comes to me:

Blood.

It always comes down to blood, doesn't it?

The night I met Sookie, I had a tiny taste of her blood; just a few small licks at her neck. Last night I had decidedly more than a few licks. I grow hard at the memory, and impatiently ignore my body's betrayal. I may be one horny bastard, but now is not the time. I need to think this through. I need answers.

My first thought is that somehow Sookie is also a psychic; that her visions have somehow transferred into me through her blood. There are obvious flaws with this: Some of what I have seen appears to be in the past. Some of what I have seen does not make sense.

I run the dreams through my mind again, clear as memories:

_Sookie entering Fangtasia with Bill. White dress. Innocent. I feel curious about her; I have not met her. She shows me pictures, and suddenly warns me to get out. There is a raid._

_Sookie beaten and battered .Telling Bill and I about her escape from the Fellowship center. I'm sent away; seething with the knowledge that he is the one who will get to wash her and care for her. _

_Sookie washing my feet in her kitchen. I do not know who I am. She is kind. I question her; speak with her as if I do not know her. I don't seem to know anything but her kindness. _

That's all.

I know I have had other dreams. Dozens, maybe hundreds of other moments… memories? I remember everything from the ones from last night: every word, every touch. From what I can piece together, Bill and Sookie are together in the first two. I want her, but am biding my time, for she is Bill's.

My fists clench. There is just something so wrong about Sookie being Bill's, even in a dream.

The last one I cannot even make sense of. It's like a memory of a different life, where I don't remember, but am looking back on _not_ remembering without the memories I need to understand. Sookie is in them all. I remember them because I have had her blood. Sookie is the key, but does she know it?

I focus on the dreams again. I get a flash of asking Sookie to give me a soda can in a hotel; then another: drinking from her limp form, huge gashes down her back.

I'm pacing now. I focus again, but nothing comes.

This will not stand. I feel like I am going insane. It is in Sookie's blood. Somehow she is the cause of this.

I am in the air on the way to her house before I actually stop to think what I am doing. What I am _going_ to do. First I need to establish if Sookie _knows_ anything. She may be as clueless as I am.

For her sake I certainly hope she is.

* * *

_Sookie POV_

I wake up on cloud nine. Immediately I feel guilty for feeling so wonderful. Gran hasn't been dead three weeks and already I'm happy as a clam.

I shake off the feelings of guilt and hop into the shower. Gran would want me to be happy. She would want me to be happy with Eric. Suddenly I can only feel grateful; I got more time with Gran. I got to talk to her about things we never got a chance to talk about.

I think today I'll make one of Gran's pies.

Baking has always helped me think; and I need my thinking cap on today. Bill is set to leave in less than two days, and I still don't have a solid plan. I've pretty much played the 'I heard a random human thinking _blank'_ card to death. I muddle over the situation on the way to the grocery store, but can't seem to come to any solid conclusions. I'm in the middle of picking out apples for the pie in the middle of the store when I realize that I know what I have to do.

Things are getting difficult now. It's not just me, or the people close to me. It's entire vampire governments that I'm messing with. As much as I've learned about vampires in the last few years, I'm really not equipped to deal with this or what's to come (Rhodes, anyone?).

I know I have to do it. I have to tell Eric.

I squeeze the apple I'm holding a little too firmly and my finger-tips sink in, breaking the skin, causing two small apple-juice tears to run down the sides. I know that if I put a little more pressure on, it will explode in my hand. Hello, vamp-blood enhance strength. I throw the maimed apple in with the rest and head to the check out.

It's going to take a whole pie to figure out how to explain this. Maybe I should watch my old VHS copy of _Back to the Future_ for some ideas.

Oh yeah, the whole thing in that movie was _not_ to tell…

Stupid space/time continuum.

* * *

Eric arrives not long after sunset. I'm just setting my dishes in the sink; the pie turned out okay, not great. I followed Gran's recipe, but I think it must be an old one. I feel a pang as I finish rinsing the dish, and then feel a wave of satisfaction because of it. I don't know if it's sick or not that I am _glad_ to feel sad about Gran.

I guess I just don't want to get over it too quickly. I don't want what I have with Eric to totally cover up my grief…

Speaking of Eric, he enters the kitchen and wraps his arms around me, and I start to feel my grief turn to guilt. I don't want to tell him. I want to stay like this: happy, uncomplicated. Well… less complicated. Maybe I can tell him tomorrow? I shouldn't put it off, but I can't help wanting to keep him in the dark a little longer.

"Feeling guilty about eating too much pie?" I can hear the smirk in his voice.

My eyes widen and I spin around in his arms. "What?"

He leans in to nuzzle my neck; "There was the strongest sense of guilt about you just now."

Right, the blood exchange.

I wrap my arms around him and try to project contentment and happiness. I thought I was ready for this, to be this open with Eric again. But it is so scary. Even now, without a full-blown blood bond he can sense my strong emotions. He can probably tell where I am when he's nearby too. Somehow it's not the horrifying prospect it was in Timeline A, but just now was a pretty good reminder of how these blood exchanges affect my privacy; my will.

He begins to kiss me and suddenly I don't care. The fae time-travel is the one and only thing I am keeping from him now.

I resolve to tell him tonight.

Somehow he's moved us into the living room, and down onto Gran's pastel floral sofa. He sits down in the center, keeping one of my legs on either side of him. He's already hard, and I rock into him a little as we continue to kiss. He runs his hands up my thighs and lifts my dress to bunch around my waist. It's my white dress with the little red flowers that I wore the first time I came to Fangtasia in Timeline A. It doesn't really go with the grown-up professional/sexy look that I've been working in this timeline, but I really do love the dress. Plus, Eric seemed to get off on the whole Sookie-the-virgin thing, and dresses don't come more sexy-sweet than this.

I'm right, Eric does seem to like it, because he keeps in on me, just letting the lower half bunch over my hips as his hands work their way underneath and past my panties. I rise up a little, to give him better access, but he seems satisfied to run two fingers in dizzying circles over my clit, while his other hand strokes over my lower back.

I remove my hands from his hair down to his pants. He is wearing a belt and underwear (silk!), and by the time I've freed him, I'm making little whining noises of impatience. I start to bear down on him, ignoring the tiniest twinge. I pant as I feel the head penetrate me, and begin to descend farther when Eric's hands slide under to grip my thighs. I look at him questioningly and try to move down again, but he is holding me in place, with just the head of his cock inside me.

I put my hands on his shoulders and arch my back, silently pleading with him to let me continue. I still can't move. His vampire strength allows him to hold my entire weight easily. He thrusts his hips slightly; coming in another inch or two, but swiftly retracts back to his original, shallow penetration.

I groan now, squeezing with all my might around what little of him is inside of me.

"Eric." It's all I can say, and I rest my forehead on his shoulder.

"Sookie. Look at me."

I look, and my heart speeds up. He looks merciless. He thrusts again, keeping me totally still. I cry in relief. He's halfway in, and I grip him, trying to keep him there, trying to get more. I can't think. I can't think straight. I need him, and he's holding back with some kind of insane vampire willpower. He retracts again, and lifts me a little. Now his penis is only lightly brushing my outer folds.

My hands are grasping his shoulders now with all my strength, which is actually decent for having his blood so recently. He doesn't seem to notice.

"That really is a lovely dress" he says in a conversational tone, as if we are just sitting at the kitchen table over coffee.

I can only say "ghurmna" in response, as his tip gently caresses me. Back and forth, spreading my wetness. He's barely touching me now, tiny butterfly brushes, smooth, gliding nothingness aided by precome and my own fluids.

"What did you do today, other than bake?"

I want to scream at him: "Who the fuck cares! Just fuck me!" But I don't really see that getting me anywhere. "I, uh, did some cleaning, and shopped at the store." He rewards my answer with three swift thrusts. The first two are halfway in, but with the third I find myself flush against him. I cry out. I'm close already.

He seems to sense it and pulls back. He's still halfway in.

"Where did you get your dress?" He's practically purring now.

I screw up my face in concentration. "I've had it a long time, I don't even remember."

Thrust.

"Do you wear it often?"

"Nuh, no. I keep it in the back of my closet."

Thrust, thrust.

"Do you like it?"

"Yes."

Thrust, thrust, thrust.

_Oh God._

"Do you think _I_ like it?"

"Yes." I'm whimpering now.

Thrust.

"Did you wear it the first time we met at Fangtasia?"

"Yes."

"But you didn't wear it for _me_ then, did you?"

"No--" _Wait, what?_

Suddenly he's plunging into me with wild abandon. Yes! Finally!... I know something just happened. He said something… _Jesusfuck_

He stands up and forces my body down over his cock over and over until we are both coming. I flop over him like a rag doll, and try to focus. What happened, he said something about my dress…

He plops me down on the sofa, does up his pants and kneels on the ground in front of me. It's not a romantic one-knee kind of kneel; more like the 'I am about to spring at any moment' kind.

The first time we met at Fangtasia.

He knows I wore this dress…

I can feel all the blood drain from my face, and then rush back in as I feel myself turn beet-red.

"You've remembered this whole time!? I can't believe you!" I start hitting his chest and he grabs my wrists, looking utterly confused.

"What _exactly_ is it that I supposedly remember Sookie?" His face is hard, but I can tell he really wants the answer. It isn't a question he really knows the answer to.

It's my turn to be confused. So, he doesn't remember Timeline A? But how could he know about the dress?

I have no idea what is going on here.

His grip tightens on my wrists.

"Start at the beginning. You are going to tell me everything."


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter 39

_Sookie POV_

To say that I feel shocked is the understatement of the century. I can't seem to form words, and Eric appears to be comfortable waiting. He stands in front of me with his arms crossed and his face set into a blank mask.

It's such a shock, to go from… what we were doing, to sitting here like a confused, guilty child. My eyes well up, but I refuse to cry. I _haven't_ done anything wrong; not really. What is going on here? Was the dress thing a bluff? What does Eric know?

Finally I feel ready to pose some questions.

"Why did you ask me that about my dress?"

Eric glares. "What part of 'Tell me everything' do you not understand? What have you done to me? Are you a witch? Is this some sort of memory curse?"

I smile a little at the idea that _I'm_ a witch who cast a memory spell. That _has_ happened to him, but his version is a little confused.

Smiling is a mistake.

He grabs my neck and hisses "Tell me witch!"

Oh god. Oh god I think I may pee my pants. Eric has never been so scary. I've never been so hurt. He thinks I've betrayed him; he thinks I've tricked him.

His grip isn't very tight. Whether that is because he doesn't want to hurt me, or because if he squeezes tightly I won't be able to talk I don't know. Silent tears fall from my eyes. I feel so betrayed; I feel so upset that Eric thinks _I_ betrayed him.

Well, nothing's gonna get solved by crying.

"Let go of my neck. Right now; I will explain everything." I'm proud that my voice doesn't sound wobbly.

Suddenly his hand is gone, and in the next moment he's pulled over an old blue wing-back, and is sitting directly in front of me. He leans forward, his elbows on his knees and nods for me to continue.

Right. Well I guess the beginning would be nose-wipe… or would it be two years ago when I met Bill?

I sigh. I guess I'll just start talking. "So, as you know I'm part fae." Eric's eyes narrow, but he's too desperate for information to do anything but listen. "What you don't know, is that I'm descendant from, um, royalty, I guess. My great-grandfather is Niall Brigant." He stiffens, but does not say anything.

Seeing him like this is so unnerving. He's acting like he doesn't even know me. Panic grips me, and it begins to sink in that he may feel too betrayed. He may not… I might not get my Eric back. Keep it together Sookie! If he feels me panicking he will think I'm guilty again. "Okay, look, I know you won't believe this, but I planned to tell you tonight… it's really complicated."

"You are part of Niall's line. What does that have to do with anything? Tell me."

I run my hands through my hair, and rest them in my lap. I keep my eyes focused on them as I explain.

"I'm not really from this reality; well, time, erm, okay… a couple months ago a fairy came to me and said that he had a mission for me. It was a favor for my grandfather, and it doubled as a gift. He said I could go back in time to a point I decided, and that once I was there all I had to do was deliver a letter to Niall."

He doesn't say anything, so I keep going. "Where I was… _when_I'm from is actually two years from now. In that timeline, I call it Timeline A in my head, a lot of horrible things had happened. I thought I could change things… change it all, you know? And I have. Things happened to me before, and Bill, and lots of other people. I've been able to keep the worst of it from happening. My Gran still died, but at least I didn't have to scrub her blood off of every surface of my kitchen."

I'm crying again, but it's okay, because it's about Gran. It's mostly about Gran.

"You were with Bill in this… Timeline A?"

I look up, and Eric does not look as harsh somehow. He still seems taciturn, but it's edged with something else. I realize suddenly that it's jealousy, and I want to fling myself at him I feel so relieved.

"Yes. Well, you can probably figure out how things happened. He was sent by the Queen to get me under vampire control, and he succeeded. He was the first real relationship I ever had. In Timeline A I was just getting the hang of my telepathy, and that, along with some other factors made me pretty standoffish when it came to men. And then there was Bill. With his gentlemanly ways, and his silent head, and I thought I was in love." I shrug, showing my indifference. "The irony is not lost on me that what I thought of as my first 'real' relationship was actually a sham."

He looks pissed. "And yet you still do not see Bill for what he is. You continue to befriend him, when all he does is betray you."

I forget my contrition and find myself defending Bill: "Bill has saved my life more times than I can count. His initial motivation for pursuing me was wrong, yes; but I have no doubt that he really does care for me."

Erics eyes flash, and he responds: "Well, perhaps you should go to him then. You would make quite a couple; you are both skilled in deception."

I sit back, feeling like he's slapped me.

I speak, but my voice sounds too low, weighed down with emotion: "I don't want Bill."

_Deception?_ Fuck. That.

I stand, and suddenly I'm the one looming over him. "Don't you dare accuse me of deceiving you. What would you have done if I'd told you when we met that I was from the future? Written me off as crazy? Taken me to your Queen as interesting prize? Killed me? I kept my history to myself because it was tactically the best thing to do. You, out of anyone should be able to understand that. Do you have any idea how many people I've watched die over the last two years? Do you know how many times I've been beaten, and hurt and almost raped? So don't you _fucking dare_tell me what I'm skilled at Eric Northman!"

I'm breathing heavily by now, and practically screaming.

"You claim to only want to change the deaths and wrong-doings you have suffered. What then, did you hope to gain by seducing me?"

I launch myself at him. I don't care in this moment that I am a tiny woman. I don't care that he could rip me apart without a thought. I don't care. I'm so enraged that I actually land a couple blows and manage to scratch his cheek before he restrains me. He has my hands behind my back in one hand, and is holding me down across his legs with the other.

My teeth are almost chattering with rage. "Seduce? _Seduce_?!" I practically spit the word at him. He just sits there, looking calm as every. Stupid fucking vampires.

"Seduce you was just about the opposite of what I did! I was with Bill before, and he hurt me unimaginably. Then you got your memory erased, and I practically fell in love with you. Then you ignored me, but we got bonded, so that confused me even further! So I came to this time and I decided to just keep things professional. Well, un-be-fucking-knownst to me, the bond wasn't the reason for my feelings, and I realized I loved you _here_too. But you're Eric fucking Northman, and I knew I had a snowball's chance in hell of ever getting you to feel the same way, so I just focused on saving people. Then, you started being all… and I wanted… and suddenly we were together, and I loved you more than before, and now, now you're accusing me of laying some elaborate magic _trap_ for you!"

I struggle and twist for several moments before I give up. He's too strong.

"Show me the letter."

I was not expecting that… I'm not sure if I should tell him about the ring, but I did promise myself no more secrets, right? "I'll show you, but you can't open it. I was instructed that only Niall could read it; deal?"

He lets go of me and sits back. "If it really is a letter meant for a fae prince, I doubt I could open it if I tried."

I wiggle a little to get more comfortable, but stay sitting across his legs. If I'm sitting on him, at least he won't leave; I'll take any kind of familiarity I can take at this point.

"To keep it safe he gave me a ring. It connects to another dimension, where the letter is stored." After I explain I think _aperio letter_ at the ring, and it appears in my hands.

Eric's eyes widen for a moment, and I feel his body relax. He takes the letter carefully, and inspects it. He even smells it.

He looks exactly like a blood hound, and I giggle. He meets my eyes and a small smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

* * *

_Eric's POV_

She shows me the letter and giggles as I smell it. It smells faintly like her, and I detect at least two fae scents. She is being truthful.

Of course I can sense everything she has been feeling due to our recent blood exchange: guilt, anxiety, anger, lust, love. The last is the strongest, and it is making it very difficult _not_ to trust her. It is making it very difficult not to forget everything and bend her over the back of the sofa.

I have heard about ancient rights that allowed fae to traverse time and space. I never imagined that a descendent with so little fae blood could survive it.

I sense Sookie becoming uncomfortable and upset, and I realize that I have not said anything for some time. She leans in to me, and tentatively wraps her arms around my neck. "You believe me, right?"

I nod. I _do_ believe her.

Perhaps it is a mistake, but everything I feel from her, as well as myself tells me what she is saying is true. Speaking of what she has said, there are quite a few parts of her rant I would like clarified. I have been so distracted by her use of the word 'love,' that I have not yet focused on some of the other major revelations; namely, something about losing my memory, and a bond between us.

My request for her to explain more thoroughly is on the tip of my tongue when there is a knock on the door.

Sookie gets up, and I follow her into the entryway. Bill is on the other side of the door, and looks chagrined to see me. "Sookie, Eric." Sookie moves to smooth the rumpled lower-half of her dress; despite her efforts to remain prim, Bill can no doubt smell every detail of what happened earlier.

He briefly tells Sookie that he will be out of town for the next few days. Seattle. It's curious that I was not informed… though I suppose I have not been as involved lately. I ask Bill if he was planning on notifying me, his sheriff.

He merely stiffly apologizes and leaves.

What Sookie could see in him in any reality is beyond me. I turn to continue our discussion, but I am distracted by the waves of worry and anxiety coming from Sookie.

Before I can enquire, she blurts out: "We have to stop Bill. He's running off with Lorena."

I fail to see the problem.

* * *

**School has started :(**

**Updates will be fewer and farther between, but I am not abandoning the story. My goal is a chapter a week... that may not be realistic, but it's nice to have goals.**


	40. Chapter 40

Originally posted to my profile:

**Update 9/1/09:** So, I started writing this story in the summer, and posted like crazy for over a month. Now I'm back in grad school, and it's taking up most of my time. I thought I could still do an update a week, but the creative juices just aren't flowing like they did when I had the time off from work and school. I hope to still update a couple times a month; to all of you that are patiently awaiting another update: thanks for sticking with the story!

* * *

Chapter 40

_Sookie POV_

"We have to stop Bill. He's running off with Lorena."

Eric simply raises an eyebrow and looks skeptical. "Bill may do what he likes. If he abandons his duty to the Queen, he will have to answer to her."

My head starts to swim with everything he doesn't know. Crap, okay, I need to make this urgent for him too. "Bill can't refuse her as his maker; in my timeline she keeps him hostage on Russell's mansion compound, tortures him, and tries to steal the Queen's special project from him. This will be seen as a failure on your part, and you'll be punished."

Eric scoops me up and sits me down in a chair across from him at the kitchen table.

"Go over everything you just said. In detail. Leave nothing out."

While my insides are crawling with anxiety over Bill, I spend the next hour detailing everything that led up to Bill's current situation in Timeline A (and I assume, in Timeline B). Eric asks dozens of questions like a top litigator, and by the time I'm done I feel like I've sat through two episodes of _Law and Order_; and not the new _Criminal Intent_ kind; the old-school Sam Waterston ones.

Finally he sums it up: "Lorena is in cahoots with Russell. She will use her power over Bill to draw him away. Russell wants the database, or at the least a decent share in it, which is his motive for holding Bill. Her motives are unknown; she may want a part in the database, or she may just be crazy. Regardless, she will enjoy torturing Bill."

"Yep, that about covers it."

"Do you know why Lorena is doing this?"

I shake my head. "Believe it or not, I didn't have a heart-to-heart with Bill about Lorena's motives after it was all over." Yeah, I was too busy getting raped and almost drained by Bill to figure out exactly how things happened… that's probably information best left unsaid.

His eyes glaze over, and he looks like a computer running through billions of pieces of data. "You killed Lorena in Timeline A?"

I nod.

"Because she took Bill from you?"

I roll my eyes and huff as I cross my arms. "I killed that bitch because she betrayed someone I loved in the worst way possible."

He considers me for a moment before grabbing my hand, turning it over and kissing my wrist at the pulse-point.

He continues to stroke my wrist with his thumb and grins at me. "You really are something else."

I blush a little and retort back: "Sure; I'm a part-fae telepath time traveler."

We sit for a few moments, and I enjoy the feelings of warmth and safety that radiate from him (not literal warmth of course). Eventually my worry for Bill creeps back in, and I break the silence: "So, I have a loose plan, but I wanted your input."

"My input." His eyebrows creep up, and he looks mildly affronted.

I suppose he thought he'd be running the show, and I was totally on board for that, until a plan formed in my head as we talked. Earlier tonight I'd gotten as far as "Chase after Bill…" in my planning, but talking about it out loud has made a few things clearer. Also, Eric may be a brilliant strategist, but I'm pretty sure that Bill's life (undead existence, whatever) is not his number one priority. In Timeline A I remember him saying something like: 'Producing Bill's work would be good enough.' I.e.: it's okay if Bill bites the dust.

Not for me it's not; no sir. Bill and Ted haven't even had an excellent conversation yet!

I take a deep breath. "So, here's what I was thinking…"

* * *

_Eric's POV_

Her plan is not a bad one; but there are some significant issues.

Not the least of which is that all of this is dependent on information she remembers from another timeline. A timeline where Bill is her first love, and where everything conceivably that could go wrong did.

How exactly we managed to be bonded, and how I sustained memory loss has been shelved for the time being; in the interest of saving Bill Compton.

Stage one is going to Bill's "right now." She is already putting on the coat I bought her, and heading out the door. Bill is not a fool, and I doubt he will believe me, but I am his superior; it is within my rights.

Sookie knocks on Bill's door with determination. A burning sensation rises up within me at the concern she feels for him. It is not even him. It is the phantom Bill of "Timeline A." It would almost be worth the Queen's punishment to have Lorena take Bill out of the picture permanently.

I'm sure my arm would grow back eventually… but then, sex might not be as enjoyable.

Bill looks surprised as she sweeps in. I wait customarily just outside the door for a formal invitation. I do not need one, but it is the way.

"Come in Eric. Sookie, what can I do for you?"

I interrupt, playing the role Sookie has assigned. It is all too easy, and I start in on him. "You disappoint me Bill."

He turns away from Sookie, who is standing on the other side of him with her arms crossed. "Eric, I do not know what--"

"Lorena, Bill."

Bill's eyes shift briefly to Sookie, as he says "Perhaps we could talk about this in a more--"

Irritation ripples off Sookie. "Oh no Bill, I have a right to be here, even if you didn't feel the need to tell me the truth!" She grumbles so quietly a human wouldn't hear, but I know Bill also hears her say "Not that you _ever_ do."

Bill backs away a bit from both of us, as if he is being attacked (which, let's face it, he is). "Sookie, you cannot understand. She is my maker; I am being called. Eric will tell you; I must go." He turns to me. "As for why you are disappointed, I do not follow. Not too long ago you would have been only too eager to have me go to Lorena. I even suspected that you induced her to contact me."

"Oh bravo, Bill. Somehow your irresponsibility has become a nefarious plot on my part." My face twists into a cruel smirk, and I go in for the kill. "Normally your retreat to Lorena with your tail between your legs would not interest me in the slightest. No, what concerns me is that you seem to be _forgetting your responsibilities_." Any minion worth their weight in human feces should be trembling and begging on the floor by now.

Bill surprisingly, looks nonplussed.

He carefully straightens the cuff of his left sleeve. "I can finish the project for the Queen from any geographic location." He pauses. "There are records of what I have done should I not return." He glances quickly at Sookie, and then away.

I glance at Sookie. She said he left his work with her before, but he did not this time. Would he have left it with Sookie tonight had I not been there? Does Bill really believe he is allowed to come and go as he pleases? I am his sheriff. Suddenly Sookie's plan to have me pretend to be furious is the real thing. Bill is conceited. He believes the work he is doing for the Queen entitles him to special treatment.

He is wrong.

"I order you under the power I hold as a sheriff to remain in Bon Temps. You will give the Queen hard copies of your work on the database thus far." His eyes widen, and he looks concerned for the first time. "Oh yes, Bill, I know about the database, and I know that Lorena does not simply have your _tender loving_ in mind."

He looks down-right affronted now. Good, the stuff-shirt. "What? Eric, you have no right to intrude into my personal--"

"I have _every_ right, Bill." I want to slam him into a wall. I can feel soothing waves of calm wash into me, and my eyes meet with Sookie's. She is trying to clam me through the bond.

Huh.

Does she know she is doing it? I file this information for the talk we still need to have. How exactly does Sookie manage to avoid all important conversation? Ah yes, she has already lived it, and does not need the answers.

I turn back to Bill and drop the bomb Sookie has assured me will get him to stay, or at least cooperate. "Lorena is working with Russell Edgington, the King of Mississippi, in a plot to get the database. She will stop at nothing."

Bill backs away from me and shakes his head. "You are mistaken." I roll my eyes. Of course Bill won't listen to me; I move to shoot Sookie an "I told you so" look, but she is standing in front of Bill with her back to me.

Holding Bill's hands.

Staring into Bill's eyes.

…

"Bill." She says it softly and sadly; her Southern drawl thick. "Bill, please. Eric is telling the truth. You can't trust Lorena; you have to get the database to the Queen so you can't be leveraged for it."

So, we are playing 'good police human, bad police human;' I hide a smirk at Sookie's scheming. Bill _is_ sentimental enough to fold under her wet eyes and warm hands.

He looks away from us both, and asks the question that needs asking: "How can he know this Sookie? How can you be sure? Lorena… I will have to go eventually."

She ducks her head to make eye-contact. If I couldn't swear up and down that she is human (mostly), I would describe her effect on Bill as glammor-like.

"I can't tell you Bill. Please you have to trust me; I can't tell you right now. If I told you I would be putting someone I really care about in danger."

Yeah, herself… the little minx!

Bill stiffins. He's not buying it. I would have thought Sookie would propose telling him the whole time-traveling tale, but it turns out she is every bit as smart as she has proven herself up to this point. Even telling me was probably a mistake. Time-travel is a delicate business; the more people that know, the more chance there are for catastrophic paradoxes, world-changing events.

"Please Bill. Please trust me?"

He sighs and nods.

Bill turns to me, but looks like he's about to have his fangs pulled. "What is it exactly you are suggesting?"

"As I said, get the Queen the database; stay away from Lorena." I walk around to stand by Sookie. "We will meet again tomorrow to discuss how to best deal with Lorena should she pursue you or the database."

He nods again, and bids us goodnight.

* * *

_Sookie POV_

Eric and I spend the rest of the night going over Timeline A in detail. I can tell he is already planning how to deal with the memory-stealing bitch, and he practically preened when I told him how he tricked me into bonding with him.

Actually, he seems excited now, and not the least bit mad. He enjoys strategizing, and appears to be over the whole 'me not telling him' thing. It's almost dawn; he's preoccupied with getting back to Shreveport, and kisses me briefly and takes flight.

I've discovered something very… interesting. The bond kind of works both ways, or, my telepathy allows it to; I'm not sure. In Timeline A I was in constant stress over the bond, and what it was making me feel, and what it was taking from me. Like everything else, it turns out that all I had to do was take control. I've noticed over the last couple of hours that I can get feelings and even stray thoughts from Eric if I focus. If I was still in Timeline A, I would take this information to the grave, but I know I'll have to tell him when he wakes up tonight.

No more secrets.

Honestly it just seems fair. If he's going to have access to my feelings, and know where I am at all times, the least I should get is some insight into him! There is still the issue of him not trusting me. I feel like he is over the Sookie traveled through time revelation, but knowing that I can see into his thoughts and feelings probably won't put him at ease. Maybe I'll work up to it… tell him the bond feels different, like I can control it (which is true). No need to tell him yet that I can hear a stray sentence or two.

Right. No more secrets… kinda.

I push a little at the bond to see if I can tell what he is thinking or feeling. I don't get anything. Maybe he's too far away. Or maybe it wears off after a certain amount of time after drinking his blood? I let my mind wander through the possibilities as I crawl into bed.

* * *

The next evening at sundown I head over to Bill's. Tonight we draw up a strategy for dealing with Lorena. I prefer "Stake her," but Bill wants a less drastic approach. I figure if a big to-do is made about Bill handing over the database, word will spread and Russell will assume he's lost his opportunity. He may want the database, but I doubt he'll go full force against the Queen for it.

Lorena may not give up, but Eric seemed open to accompanying Bill to meet her, and explain that the Queen of Louisiana does not take kindly to having her subjects (and an investigator no less) called away without so much as a 'by-her-leave." This will involve telling the Queen about the situation, but again, Eric will be the go-between. I just hope the Queen really _doesn't_ want to let Lorena have him.

Uhg, I am so glad I am not on my own with the planning anymore. Trying to integrate the Queen is like trying to integrate a talking radish. I just don't get it.

I knock on the door for a few minutes, but Bill doesn't come. The sun has just only set, so he may not be up yet. I let myself in, and decide to warm up some blood for him in the microwave. Nothing like a hot, microwave-cook meal as soon as you get up.

I make it into the entry-way before I see the note on the hall table.

It's a folded piece of card-stock, standing up like a little cream-colored tent in the center of the dark cherry. On the outer front facing me in Bill's elegant hand-writing are three words.

_I am sorry._


	41. Chapter 41

Thanks so much to everyone who has kept the faith in this story. Winter break is here, so I should be able to get back on track! As always, feel free to send me a PM with corrections. I know I have typos and word mix-ups… I keep meaning to go back and fix them :$

Also as always, reviews are appreciated (especially ideas/thoughts on where this is going, 'what ifs' and general feedback).

* * *

Chapter 41

_Sookie POV_

I am gonna _kill Bill_.

My brain flutters briefly to the Tarantino movie of the same name, and suddenly I wish I was gifted with the murderous samurai skills of his protagonist. I flip the card over and look inside, looking for something, anything to reassure me that the worst possible thing that could have happened has not happened.

Oh thank the Lord, he's written more inside.

_Sookie,_

_Please know that I do trust you. This is not easy for me, but I must go to Lorena, I must know if she intends to do what you say. I must face her, and I must do it alone. I have made arrangements for the database. If it truly is the database that Lorena wants, I will direct her without reservation to:_

_2883 E LAKESHORE DR __  
__BATON ROUGE, LA 70808_

_I am, and always will be your devoted friend,_

_William Erasmus Compton_

My blood starts to boil, and I'm about to scream with frustration when Eric appears at the door. He assesses my general mood, and walks in, sensing (or knowing?) that Bill is not here to invite him. The blood I ingested only a couple of days ago is still connecting us, though I think it may be starting to wear off or settle or something; I have to focus to get a reading on him. I silently hand him the letter and blush.

I hate being wrong. I really thought he would stay. I thought he would stay for _me_, just because I asked. Maybe I _am_ putting too much of 'Timeline A Bill' into my perception of 'Timeline B Bill.' I bite the inside of my cheek and turn to Eric.

Rather than acknowledge that he was right about Bill, I ask: "Do you recognize the address?"

His mouth turns up in a smirk I can't quite read. "It is the most recent location her majesty calls home."

I reach out through the bond and feel Eric's relief and pleasure. I sigh. I know it's a bit much to hope that Eric would be rooting for Bill to _not_ screw up, but it's still annoying to think that all he cares about is the database.

"Look, I know you don't care much for Bill, and that you think we should just let him hang himself on a Lorena-shaped noose, but he's important. He's important to me, and he's important to this state--"

He cuts me off before I can continue. "Calm yourself Sookie. I have every intension of going after Bill."

Oh. Why?

"Why?"

He smirks, and I get the feeling that he knows something I don't. "Bill has proven himself to be worthy of a rescue." He waves the note, and pulls out his cell phone.

* * *

_Eric POV_

Will wonders never cease? Bill Compton has actually acted in accordance with a person possessing the slightest shred of daring. I shake my head as I pull out my cell phone. I can tell Sookie next to me is confused. To be honest, I am too. I fully expected Bill to run off. What I did not expect, was for him to forfeit the database over to the Queen. His ownership and knowledge of the database is pretty much the only thing that would keep him alive if that deranged maker of his gets a hold of him. Perhaps he is playing the martyr, or perhaps he truly believes that Lorena wants him.

Either way, I have always respected a man that can look death, _final death_, in the eye and just keep moving toward his goal.

Bill has had a long history (though not as long as some) of strafing around conflict. He stayed with Lorena for eighty years to avoid her wrath; he fought in a war he did not truly believe in rather than dissent. It has made him a good subject. It has made him _only_ a subject. In some ways going to her is like crawling back with his fangs tucked in, but without the protection of the database, his motive can only be confrontation.

Yes, Bill is finally going to start being fun.

Pam picks up on the fourth ring. She must be busy, but as always, her voice is calm. It always makes me think of a block of ice: "Pam, go."

"Sookie and I are going to Mississippi."

She clicks her tongue the slightest bit. I suppose she's annoyed that I have essentially been ignoring her, and Fangtasia for the last several days… or has it been weeks? "Have a bag ready and packed for Sookie and I, and print out tickets for when I get there in--" I glance at the old grandfather clock Bill keeps in his entryway, how fitting of Bill, "two hours." I wait for her tongue-click to turn into a full-blown hiss of objection. It doesn't. Her only response is: "Two hours." I feel my face relax as a smile threatens; this is why Pam is my favorite.

"Also, go ahead and order the damn fountain." I swear I can hear the heels of her boots hitting the floor on the other end of the line as she does the happy-Pam-dance (also known as Pam shifting slightly; it's the closest thing to dancing she does). "It is only coming out for special occasions, and you can't fill it with real blood."

There's a pause. "Synthetic blood?"

I pinch my brow and wonder what the hell I've done indulging her like this. "Fine, synthetic. Two hours."

I sense that Sookie is becoming impatient and worried.

"Do not be upset," I say as smoothly as I can as I place my hand on the back of her neck, easing her into my side. "We will go after him and bring him back without incident." Or with incident. Ever since Sookie told me about everything she has prevented me from experiencing (though I believe she would phrase it as "saving me"), I have wanted to start a good fight.

She tucks herself against me and shakes her head. "Fucking Bill."

I smile as I kiss the top of her head and make my second call.

"Eric Northman, sheriff, area 5 requesting to speak with Queen Sophie-Anne Lecerq."

Sookie's head jerks up and she looks concerned. I rub the back of her neck and send reassurance through the bond, while simultaneously trying to hide my irritation. If anyone should be worried, it should be Lorena. If what Sookie says is true, not only will she be guilty of unlawful imprisonment (or, as the humans call it 'kidnapping') and torture, but she could potentially be charged with co-conspiring to acquire monetary assets of the state of Louisiana. Vampires do not often raise an eyebrow when it comes to brutality, or even murder (true, a hefty sum was paid for the Longshadow incident, but ultimately it is the equivalent of being audited. Annoying, but nothing to get upset over). What is important is wealth, power and everything inherent in attaining and keeping them both.

"This is Andre."

Damn. "Eric Northman. Is the Queen available?"

"She is currently indisposed."

Andre says nothing else. I almost sigh, but catch myself. It never ingratiates one to Andre to let human tendencies slip. I should not even be having the urge to do so. Spending so much time with Sookie is making me soft.

"Please notify her that I will be traveling to Mississippi. My second Pam will come to speak with her in person with the details." Who knows how deep this thing with Russell goes? Better to keep the details off of cell phones.

"I will let her know."

I will have to get Sookie to exchange more blood soon. Andre is still a threat; his blind devotion to the Queen's desires will only make Sookie more of a target as time passes. Perhaps she will relax enough in the coming days; this is after all, a vacation… of sorts.

I turn to her with mock sincerity: "Oh _honeypie_, our first trip away, just the two of us."

She snorts out a laugh, shaking her head as she walks out the door.

* * *

_Sookie POV_

Sometimes I think I could know Eric twenty lifetimes and still be surprised by him. He's such as strange combination. Battles and bad jokes. Worn leather and hot-pink spandex. In what seem s like no time at all we're at Fangtasia, and Pam is handing us two suitcases (unsurprisingly beautiful Coach leather) and two printed tickets.

The plan is more organic that I would like, but there doesn't seem to be anything for it now. I briefly feel a pang for Alcide. So far I have almost entirely kept clear of weres, and as much as I would like to call them friends, it seems like it may just be better for me to keep my distance. I don't want Debbie Pelt to string Alcide along, but I don't want her coming after me either… Things have gotten so unmanageable. I need to focus: save Bill, deal with Lorena, keep away from Andre and the Queen. After that I can worry about Jason getting involved with Crystal, Hallow and all the rest.

Oh how I miss lazy days of tanning, hanging laundry and peeling endless piles of apples for Gran's pies!

I've been so lost in my thoughts that Eric has to prod my back to bring me into reality to board the plane. Two waspy-looking white-haired women glare at us as Eric runs his hand down my back as we find our seats. They look like those miserable kinds of women who have driven all of their family away, and now subsists on gin and judging others. Eric stares at them as I lift my bag into the over-head bin. I know it would be easier (who am I kidding, _no effort_) for him to do it, but I don't want to feel like the little woman, and he makes no move to help. In fact, as I make the final push to get it in, his hand slips from my lower back down to my ass.

I look at him as see that he's still looking the women dead in the eye. He takes several long seconds to fondle me. I know I should push him away, or slap him. That's what Timeline A Sookie would have done. But it's just too funny imagining what the faces of those rich-bitch biddies must look like. When he shows no sign of relenting I slip into my seat (he's A, I'm B), and he follows.

After buckling my seat belt, I make deliberately loving moon-eyes at him, throwing my arms around his neck. "Oh Sugarpuss!" I squeal, "I can't believe that in twelve short hours we'll be in the Netherlands; finally married!"

His eyes flash, and he runs his hands down my arms. "Believe it Lemon-drop. You make me the happiest blood-sucking, undead fiend in the entire world!" He finishes by 'booping' my nose with his index finger.

I kiss him to keep from dissolving into riotous giggles.

The wasps spend the entire flight with their head's ducked, deep in conversation. Breaking only briefly to ask the attendant for more tiny bottles.

* * *

Props to anyone who remembers the mention of the blood fountain waaaaay back in chapter 7!


	42. Chapter 42

Chapter 42

_Sookie POV_

Right, so I realize after we get off the plane that the timeline is a little screwy. Bill was with Lorena for almost a week in Timeline A before not showing up for his meeting with Pam and Eric. Then it took one day for them to come tell me (the night after Bill was snatched by the Anubus Air people), and another couple of days passed before the morning Alcide came to get me.

So now I'm in Mississippi, but not with Alcide, and not on the same days I was before. Chances are that Bill is still in the same predicament, but with the days being off, I have no idea if he will be in the same place, or if Lorena has him somewhere else. By the time we get to the hotel it's an hour until dawn, and Eric and I come up with a plan that is _somehow_ familiar…

Go around to the local supe hang-outs, listen in and wait.

Great.

Even though I'm dead tired, I mess around with Eric for a little bit before he goes to sleep... inert state, whatever. I crawl into bed myself, and get a solid eight hours before I wake up in a panic:

I didn't tell anyone I was leaving.

* * *

There's nothing I hate more than waking up to realize that I forgot to do something really important the day before.

In this case there are a great many things I forgot. I make a list, and start making calls. The first is to Sam, to let him know that I probably won't be able to come in for my shift at the end of the week. I'm still only working part time (the stress from Gran's second passing coupled with a slow business month has meant Sam has given more hours to Arlene and the new girl Miranda, since both use the bar as their primary income).

Next, I realize that I need to arrange for someone to come over to feed Tina, and clean her litter (for a moment I actually miss not having to arrange for that kind of thing, and feel incredibly guilty). I consider asking Jason, but then I have another idea. I really am slipping…

"Tara's Togs, Tara speaking."

"Hey girl! How have you been?"

"Sook? Lord I haven't talked to you in an age! I'm doin' great; how's that spindly friend of yours with the boy name, Fred, Ed?"

I came in with Ted a few weeks ago, and needless to say, she made a strong impression on Tara. "Ted's fine, she's away at a conference, putting your clothes to good use; something about presenting a paper on the thermoregulation of mach 5 aeronautics or something." I roll my eyes, knowing that is not even remotly close to the actual technical mumbo-jumbo topic that Ted is giving her talk on.

Tara snorts. "So, do you want to know about all the great dresses I have on clearance? There is a red one that would fit you perfectly!"

Yes it did/does, but that's not the reason for my call. Alright then Sookie: just go for it... "Actually, I was calling because there is something important I need to warn you about." Wow, I should write a book: _Lamest Ways to Introduce Ominous Topics – Volume One._

"What are you talking about Sookie?"

Here we go. "Do you know a Franklin Mott?"

Several beats of silence follow. "Yeah… why?"

"This is going to seem like it's out of nowhere, and like I am the biggest hypocrite in the world, but you have to trust me: Franklin Mott is dangerous, and you should stay away from him."

"Why are you doing this Sookie?" There's something akin to panic in her voice, and as always, I feel the weight of not thinking things through thoroughly enough. I should have gone to see her for this conversation. I should have remembered that I needed to _have_ this conversation.

I can't think of how to answer her, but before I can she goes on: "How did you-- Did you know he just invited me to go with him on a trip?"

"Let me guess, to Mississippi?"

I hear her gasp on the other end. I press on: "Tara, you know me. You've know me half our lives. You know that sometimes I just know things, and this is one of those times."

She takes several deep breaths on the other end of the line, and says: "Lafayette came to see me a few weeks ago. He told me that if I ever could do anything for you, I should, and that if you ever gave me advice, I should take it. He said you really helped him out; 'showed him the truth about his path.' I just wrote it off to Lafayette being Lafayette."

Another pause. She's working through it on her own. Pushing now would be a huge mistake, especially with someone as bull-headed as Tara.

Oh God, why isn't she saying anything? Sometimes I wish I could hear people's thoughts over the phone...

"Sookie, I gotta admit, this, what you're doin right here. It scares me. I don't like it, and I don't want anyone telling me how to live my life but me, even if it's a friend."

_Please_.

I sit, waiting for her to make a decision.

Finally she speaks: "So, I should what? _Not_ go on the trip?"

Close enough. "You should avoid Mott, and sever any connection with him… but don't make him mad."

"Okay."

_Okay_?! I feel like getting up and jumping on the bed.

"Okay, that's no big deal. We've only been out like, once, and that was in a group. Honestly I thought it was a little weird that he invited me on this trip. I told him I'd get back to him about if I could make it work with my schedule."

I'm practically crying with happiness. "Thank you Tara. Thank you for trusting me."

She huffs a little. "Yeah, well, he's too old for me anyway. So about this red dress…"

I shake my head and talk to her for another ten minutes about the dress I've already worn, in the past, in the future, marveling at the fact that whatever the time, Tara is one resilient woman.

* * *

After calling Sam and Tara (who agreed to feed Tina to the tune of fifteen dollars a day), I call Jason and end up leaving a message on his voicemail that I'm out of town. I order room service and watch a little TV, but keep looking at the phone.

I stare at the phone for a while before realizing that there is another person that I would really like to talk to. It's about an hour until sunset here, so it is already dark in Texas. I walk over to the night-stand next to Eric's motionless form (in bed, not a coffin since the room is windowless). As my hand hovers over his cell phone, I feel a twinge of guilt, but rationalize that all I'm doing is looking up one phone number.

I scroll down to Stan Davis. There is a 'work,' a 'home' and a 'cell' listed. Home is probably the best bet.

It rings twice, before a woman answers.

"Hello, may I speak with Toby please." I cross my fingers so tightly they ache.

* * *

_Toby POV_

I get off the phone with Sookie and take a moment to digest everything we discussed. It was nice to talk to someone outside of things here. We pretty much covered everything, from how things are with Stan, to drinking blood, to the actual experience of turning.

I thought it would hurt.

I mean, sure, getting shot hurt like he—hurt a lot. But becoming the 'undead,'… not so much. It's funny, if you had asked me when I was human, when I was alive, if I would have wanted to be a vampire, I would have just laughed. Never in a million years would I have even considered it a possibility.

Turning has made everything clearer. Literally everything. Not only can I see with perfect clarity, but I now know this is the life, the un-life I was meant for.

I'm still coming to terms with some things. I haven't told my family. I don't know if I'll ever tell them. It may be better for them to think I'm dead, or off at some gay resort (which for them amounts to pretty much the same thing).

I can't bring myself to drink directly from a person. Stan spoiled me. For the first couple weeks I was bed-ridden, too weak even to sit up. I was given a near constant supply of fresh human blood, alternated with synthetic blood (which, incidentally, tastes really gross). Feeding is so closely tied to intimacy for me from being Stan's human. I just can't drink from anyone. When I drink now, from a glass, I think of it like I used to think of food. I know most of the nest thinks I'm being stupid, or weird or something… whatever, Stan doesn't seem to mind.

It's strange. I thought when you turn; you're supposed to get all… unfeeling. I thought I'd want to kill, and maim and destroy. It's not like that at all. I can't even bring myself to curse. I mean, I am now a _gay vampire_. If I'm going to hell, I'd say it's pretty much a done deal, right? But I can't. I don't want to have any more strikes against me than I already do.

I sigh and go back to watching _Interview with the Vampire_. Stan jokes that I look like Brad Pitt. Aside from blondish hair and blue eyes, there isn't really that big of a resemblance. Well, maybe we have a similarly shaped nose.

And chin.

Stan's been away a lot for work. He hasn't told anyone, but I know he's planning on making a move for more power.

King Stan. I smile.

It does suck that he's away so much though. At first he wouldn't even leave my bedside, which I honestly put off to him making sure I wasn't some botched head-case. But soon I realized that my bond with him is so strong; so much stronger than it was when I was bonded to him as a human. All I feel from him all the time is this constant warmth, like the feeling of a crackling fire when you're chilled to the bone. I felt it, but then one day, the day before he had to leave on business for the first time, he just said it out of the blue: "I could not stand to lose you. I – I love you." He looked so sheepish, and so nerdy, and so _Stan_ at that moment. A Stan that I could imagine was once human.

I only laughed. His eye's narrowed, probably because he thought my laughter was some first sign of psychosis. Finally I pulled it together enough to answer him: "You know I've loved you since the moment I saw you trying to color-coordinate that dreadful maroon sweater-vest."

His mouth twitched. "It was _not_ that bad."

I shook my head and took his hand delicately in my own. "Stan. I can say this now, having come very close to dying: that outfit was a fate worse than death." I nodded with that self-assured look I always get when it comes to style. "I saved your life."

Perhaps it was the fact that I still couldn't have bench-pressed a kitten, or maybe he was just relieved that I took his declaration in stride, but in the next moment his hands where using my shoulders as support, and his head was resting on my chest as he laughed uncontrollably.

"Ah yes," he breathed, "death by maroon tweed." We sat there giggling like teenage girls until a knock at the door alerted us he had to catch his flight.

Like an egg cracking open, something changed that day. Everyone noticed it in the coming weeks. I heard Joseph whispering to Isabelle (recently released from her shackles) that he actually smiled when last month's earning reports came in. Farrell exchanged smirks with him a few days ago when the newest human asked where the extra toilet paper was. It's not like he's a different person. He doesn't joke, or dance around, or present himself as anyone but Stan; but he does smile.

According to Odabi it's the biggest change anyone has seen in him in over seven hundred years.

But I have one over on all of them. They only get to see him smile; I get to see him laugh.

* * *

**So, in terms of story continuity, there is just going to have to be some suspension of disbelief in terms of the time-frame. I've read through Club Dead, and things are a little murky. Let's just go with the above...**

**I am also aware that time-zones/sunsets may not really work like this. Oh well! Artistic license! **


	43. Chapter 43

Chapter 43

Sookie POV

By the time Eric starts to wake up, I'm anxious to get going. It's so strange, being back here. It's not like I haven't been in this situation before: re-living events I've already lived, grappling with fears I've already faced.

Except…

Up until now I've been righting wrongs. I've been fixing things as best I could. This feels like the first time I am facing making something worse. So much worse. What if Bill dies? How can I live with that? What if some wack-a-doo vampire politics go down and everything spirals out of control? I guess that's what I'm really afraid of: losing control. If things change too much, I'm back to mortal, know-nothing Sookie.

Eric stirs, and I gently comb my fingers through his (perfectly-in-place) hair. Why, why, why do vamps have to look so perfect _all_ the time? I picture what I must look like: jet-lagged and stressed and over-caffeinated. The feeling of his head moving beneath my hands is the only warning that I have that he's awake. His eyes crinkle as one of his own hands comes up to cover mine and says:

"What a lovely way to wake up."

My heart skips a beat for a moment; then he continues: "Though, if I'm to be honest, and I think we have both agreed that we will be… I can think of better places for you to stroke as I awaken." He grins and wiggles his hips as if his meaning wasn't clear enough.

"Oh really?!" I laugh as I muss his hair and reach for the pillow next to me. He knows it's coming. Of course he does. But he simply sits up as I reign the blow down on his head with the pillow. He lets me get in one more good 'thwack!' before I'm pinned to the mattress. The down from the now-deceased pillow flutters down all around us, and he growls deep in his throat. _Oh Lord_ what that growl does to me!

I'm toast. There's no escaping whatever retaliation he wants to dish out now (and I'm pretty sure I don't want to). But then he gets this look. This shit-eating "Oh Sookie, you are no match for me" look, and I start to feel a teensy bit obstinate. We'll see who's at the mercy of who here; yes sir!

The last of the pillow-stuffing falls and I start chuckling.

His grin turns into a skeptical smirk as he asks: "What, exactly, is so amusing? You are at my mercy, my little _snicker-doodle_."

I laugh even harder at his ridiculous pet name, carried over from our foray into fake schmoopy-coupledom on the plane. I know these pet names are going to move from funny to annoying pretty quick, so I go all out: "Well, my turtle dove-sweetiekins-_pooh-bear_," he visibly blanches when I get to "pooh bear" (I wonder if he knows who Whinny the Pooh is, or if he thinks it's some kind of toilet-humor?). I plaster my own shit-eating grin on and continue: "_you_ look like you've gone a few rounds in a chicken coop. And lost."

He looks confused for a moment before glancing at the nearest section of his hair which is hanging by his jaw-line. Practically woven into his _perfect_ hair are at least ten feathery puffs from the pillow he so zealously destroyed. I almost lose control in a laughing fit at the pout on his face as he sits up on his knees and starts quickly picking them out. I would be tempted to call it adorable, if ever such a word could be applied to the mighty Eric Northman.

But now is not the time for laughing. I have to keep my focus. This is my one chance. He has almost all the feathers out (in like, two seconds!), but he's distracted enough for me to make my move. I have just enough speed and strength from our last blood exchange to launch myself at him. I don't come close to toppling him over, or even moving him, but I am able to sort of wrap myself around his front and side. He starts to move in response (while, I notice, picking the last of the dander out of his hair at the same time).

_Quickly, quickly._ I yank his hair, hard, and brace my feet against the bed and set my legs into a sort of crouch-stand to keep him from pinning me again (sure, he _could_, but not without possibly hurting me, which I know he won't). Adrenalin from my minor victory flows through me and I kiss him for all I'm worth.

He's tense. I reach out through the slow drizzle of what is left of the bond and sense the huge conflict within him. On the one hand, he wants to wrestle me into submission. He's itching to reclaim dominance. On the other, he is incredibly turned on. I can't tell if he likes that I tricked him, or that I pulled his hair, but he likes _something_, and is willing to ease back to get more of it.

I figure I can make the choice easy for him. I press my entire body against him, and continue to work my mouth over his in a demanding rhythm. His arms wrap around me and he returns my kiss. I sigh in pleasure. Yes. This is right; this is what I want. Both of us, together. Passion, not power.

He kisses down to my neck, and my pulse quickens at the thought of him biting me. A million emotions run through me, the strongest of which is desire. Not sexual desire, but the desire to give him what he _needs_. I tilt my head farther to the side and press against the base of his head where my fingers have rested after carding through his (featherless) hair.

He pulls back and looks me in the eye. Oh God. Is it possible to have an orgasm from just looking at someone? Eyegasm. I feel my mouth form into a funny little smile, and I begin to get light-headed. Whoa. Is this what getting glamoured feels like? He did it once before after all, in this very city…

Suddenly I'm not looking at him anymore, and I feel him at my neck. It feels even better than before. Better than it ever has. No wonder people get addicted to this, if this is what a vampire whammy feels like (if I am indeed glamoured, and not just love-drunk, honestly I wouldn't bet money either way). I float for who knows how long in a haze of pleasure. Eventually I am able to focus on clearing my head as he licks at my neck to stop the bleeding. As amazing as the floaty feeling feels, it also seems sort of… wrong. Like I'm high (not that I would really _know_, I only ever snuck the tiniest puff of Jason's stuff in high school).

It just feels like… I'm not thinking clearly or something. Even though I trust Eric with my life, I don't want to be strung out and far away when we are together. I have to add "Have Eric try to eyegasm me" to the list of things we need to do once everything calms down.

Hmm, I must be thinking clearly again if I'm making lists.

He stays at my neck longer than necessary, moving down to my clavicle and over to my shoulder. My head clears for good and I realize he must be avoiding my mouth until the last remnants of my blood have been cleared out of his mouth by his saliva. I told him after our first exchange that the idea of kissing him and tasting my own blood makes me kind of queasy. I hold him tight to thank him. He does so many little things to make me feel better; more at ease.

I try pushing my feelings of gratitude and (gulp, alright, I can _think_ it at least) love through the bond and feel frustrated. It's hard to explain… like the feelings are bottlenecked… like pushing on a capped toothpaste tube.

I sigh and nuzzle his neck. Eric's been hinting that I should drink from him again. The whole Andre thing really freaked him out. He hasn't made a big deal about it. Jokes, innuendo. But I can tell he's serious. I've been putting it off. Each day I can feel the bond waning, like stretched taffy. I just didn't want to do it again because of some crappy political situation, or because I needed to be faster and stronger. The practical part of me knows that I should do it purely because I am probably (hopefully?) going to be facing Lorena soon, but the stubborn Sookie doesn't want to give in. Give in to anyone, even if it's Eric.

And suddenly it's me pulling back to look _him_ in the eye.

I run my fingers carefully over his ears and through his hair, and back up to trace his jaw line, then his eyebrows. His nose. His lips. I repeat the pattern. By the second pass an immense calm seems to have settled over him. My own emotional state is the exact opposite. I feel it all, all at once, and I know that I want to take his blood. Not because it will help me. Not because it's hot and Eric gets off on it like nothing else (although that's great too). But because I want to be close to him. I really do.

It almost seems like too much to take. My throat closes up as I try to find the words, and I find I don't have to. I can let my actions speak for me. I can let the bond show Eric everything I could never, ever say.

My hands come to rest lightly on his neck on either side, and my thumbs slowly trace his chin. I start the cycle again, lightly kissing my way over his jaw, eyebrows, nose and lips, finally resting on his lips. Lightly, so lightly brushing against them. Maybe he could sense what I was considering, or maybe this is just is a post-feeding stupor. Either way he's still content to just relax into the rhythm, his hands slowly drawing circles on my lower back.

Gradually I press harder, open my mouth more. Just as he is really starting to respond I pull back again. He looks puzzled, and I lean forward and deliberately take his bottom lip in between my teeth. He gasps as I apply pressure; just shy of hard enough to break the skin. I release and suck the lip into my mouth. Pulling the blood to the surface.

The hands at my back are now clenching. Pressing. When it feels like neither of us can wait another second I grip his lip in my teeth for a final time, making sure he is looking at me.

And bite without abandon.

It seems like a life-time ago that this seemed gross. I kiss and suck and lick and bite again as it flows into me. Until my head is swimming. Eric is pulling, and trusting and moving against me in a way that must look wild and hedonistic, but it hardly registers over the power rushing into me.

How can someone dead feel like the very essence of life?

I feel boneless as I place a few final licks around the area that is probably Eric's face.

We're still in bed two orgasms later when I look at the clock and see it is almost ten. I shift in Eric's arms and try to berate myself. We are here to rescue Bill, not shack up. _Way to keep your eye on the prize, Sookie._

"Eric?"

His arms tighten around me and he responds: _Do not worry. The supe night-life in these parts does not get going until after eleven._

According to the red numbers on the bed-side alarm clock, it is nearly four minutes before I realize that Eric didn't _speak_ his reply.

* * *

A/N

Hooray for updates! I keep meaning to get to the actual investigating/saving of Bill, but the story got side-tracked again ;)

Also, a quick note: I have decided to write my final big paper for school on interaction and community within internet fandom/fanfic, and I was wondering if any of you would be willing to fill out the poll(s) I have posted? Additionally, any PMs with your thoughts on why you read or write fan-fiction would be great. I am not really sure if I posted the polls correctly, but hopefully some of you will contribute to my attempts at higher learning!

[Thanks so much in advance!! 3]


	44. Chapter 44

Chapter 44

_Sookie POV_

Oh sweet Lord in heaven, this is just what I need.

Why can't things be simple, for once? I've accepted that I can read people's thoughts. I have accepted that I'm walking a fine line between life and death at any given moment. Gran's dead; okay. Alcide won't be in my life now; fine (well, livable). But reading Eric's mind clear as a bell, and having him mind-speak to me just about tears it.

I can tell my anxiety is seeping through the newly-strengthened bond, because he abruptly starts to sit up. I try to listen in on him like I would a human.

_Sookie is troubled. Again. If this is more regret over the bond I am going to have to go out and eviscerate something._

I take a deep breath. No secrets, right?

"If you're planning on eviscerating something, I hope it's a cow, because I'm hungry as a horse and I don't think I can stomach human." Okaaay, so I'm mixing species and attempting to joke about vampire eating habits… probably not the best way to break this to him.

His head whips around to look at me so fast it's almost funny… or scary, I'm not sure which.

_You can hear my thoughts?_

I nod. "And, um, I didn't _say_ anything about us being late earlier… so… I think you might have heard me too… in my head." I point to my temple. He's sitting up wide-eyed now. This is the most shocked I have ever seen him. I am doing everything I can to keep from reading him, but can't resist thinking at him: _Congratulations, and welcome to the exciting world of telepathy._ He leans forward a little, as if he could really hear what I thought. My heart begins to hammer at what this means: Eric can hear my thoughts and I can hear his!

Suddenly he gets up and begins dressing. "We need to get going. Do not mention this… out loud, even if you think we are alone. I need some time to decide how to deal with this."

Anxiety is rolling off of him in waves.

Okay, right. Well, I'm just as surprised as he is here, but his reaction isn't hitting me right. "I need to decide how to deal with this" has a distinct lack of "we" in it. I sigh and move to the bathroom to get dressed.

Maybe I'm just used to telepathy-related issues, but I figure it makes sense to at least establish what exactly we're dealing with here. I clear my mind and hum 'Mary Had a Little Lamb' in my head. By the time I'm in the shower and sudsing up, I focus my mind on Eric and "message" him the same way I would Barry.

_Did you hear the song I was humming in my head just now? _

After a beat he thinks: _The original poem was written after a real Mary. Mary Sawyer who kept a pet lamb._

_Oh sweet crap_ I think as I begin to scrub my hair. So he can hear me in a different room.

_Agreed, though my word choice would not be nearly as tame._

_Wait… why couldn't I hear you thinking anything while I showered?_

_You're the telepath_.

Lord he's loud; it sounds like he is almost shouting his thoughts. They also seem to be tinged with annoyance. I suppose Eric isn't used to feeling out of control.

_Or being psychoanalyzed. _

_This won't do_. I take several deep breaths and focus on building up mental walls and barriers. I put my brain in layer after layer of protection, like those Russian dolls that fit inside one another.

"What did you do?" he yells from the bedroom.

"I blocked you out. Did it work?"

"Yes. Can you hear me?"

I feel like we are in a bizzaro cell-phone commercial. "No… not since I came into the bathroom." Huh, why is that? I guess it could be that I naturally started blocking to keep from hearing him. In order to maintain my sanity that's sort of my default state now. Yes, that must be it. After sex I was mush and didn't have my usual protections up. I must have put up my normal walls as I left the room. But he could still hear what I was thinking since I almost never think to shield myself from people coming in to _my head_!

I towel off and think-hum an annoying Spice Girls song as I get dressed and apply my make-up. I've toned my look down a bit compared to the last time I was in Jackson. I smile remembering my red dress and sky-scrapper heels. Tonight I'm in something just as short and tight, but black and with long full sleeves. I want to fit in and look good, but not stand out.

I would prefer not to freeze my nips off too, but I guess you can't have everything. I put in silver hoop earrings as a finishing touch as I enter the bedroom. Still nothing from Eric's mind.

"Did you hear the song I thought of while getting dressed?"

"No." His answer matches his expression. Serious, to the point, and giving nothing away. It really makes me want to try to read him again, but I resist. If he's pissed that I can read his mind, I want to give him as little to be upset about as possible. Isn't the whole reason I started up with vamps in the first place; to be free of my little disability? He gets up and moves toward the door.

Right, time to focus; better to follow his example and get right to it.

"Are we going to Club Dead, or did you want to try some other supe hang-out?"

He turns toward me to answer and I can't help but smile. He has his disguise glasses on, and his hair is pulled back in an elaborate braid. So I guess he does his own hair then… maybe he'll braid mine sometime. He is wearing all black, a slim-fitting suit and dress shirt with no tie. We'll look good together in black.

"Since Club Dead is where you met with success before, we will go there to begin with. Since we are on Bill's trail almost four days earlier than you were previously, the situation will likely be different. However those involved and the humans around them will likely be the same."

I nod. Suddenly I feel like Eric and I are further apart than ever. I have no idea how he feels about this. If he's mad or scared (if that's possible) or I don't know what… I guess that's how it's always been: telepathy is the ultimate form of closeness, literally being in someone else's mind… but it always just ends up alienating me.

I square my shoulders and head for the door. Save Bill. Deal with Lorena. That has to be my focus now.

I silently renew my mental shields, and wish that I could do the same for my heart.

* * *

_Eric POV_

I have allowed things with Sookie to get entirely out of hand. She can read my mind. I can read _hers_… or, I could before she blocked me out.

Rage begins to bubble inside me that now she can hear what I am thinking, but that she has completely protected herself. I shake it off. Bill is the priority for now. I glance at her as we ride down the elevator. She seems as non-pulsed as someone could be in this situation.

_Sookie_! I think at her as loud as I can… if that _is_ how this works… she said earlier that I was "shouting."

No reaction. She just keeps humming "If You Wanna Be My Lover." At any other time I would admire her calm and fortitude, but not now, when I myself am barely restraining myself from destroying the tiny box we are traveling in.

Could it be that she is also preventing herself from hearing me? Momentary relief is extinguished by the realization that she could "tune in" to my thoughts at any time without me knowing. She has all the cards now. Unlimited access to my mind. Unlimited access to what is mine and only mine.

I doubt even the most skilled telepaths in the world would have a chance at breaking down her mental defenses. She has me tied and tethered. The doors open and I know that I have to get away from her. I have to think.

I have to be the only one hearing my thoughts.

What was I thinking coming here with her? This was a bad idea.

I send the text I should have before now. It's not too late.

I have to stay away from Sookie.

* * *

I'm back in all my evil cliffy-vengeance! Thanks for waiting everyone; I plan to post more regularly starting now!


	45. Chapter 45

Chapter 45

_Sookie POV_

The elevator ride down to the lobby is tense, and I try to relax by aimlessly humming. Every second is a struggle not to shout into Eric's face "LETS TALK ABOUT THIS!"… I really have changed. Old Sookie would have wanted to run and hide and get as far away from Eric as possible, but now I just want to lock him in this elevator and figure out exactly what is going on and exactly how it affects, oh Lord, our _relationship_.

He doesn't look at me the whole way down, just texts with impossibly fast fingers on his phone and looks straight ahead. He leads the way out to the car he rented (a bright red Audi), and drives to the club all without saying a word.

I want to break the silence, the tension, but I'm totally at a loss for what to say… "Sorry about that thing that we can't talk about, wanna joke around and pretend everything's normal?"

My face feels hot, and my throat tightens. I hate this. What is going on? Is he mad at me? How could he be? It's not like I knew this would happen! Would it be so hard for him to say "I'm not mad at you," or "We'll get through this, don't worry"? My hands clench around the fabric of my dress. I guess Eric has never really been big on providing emotional support… not when he has his memories anyway.

The tires screech as we pull over about a block away from Club Dead. Instead of walking down to the entrance, he steers me into a nearby ally. Huh, maybe he wants to tell me something before we go in.

"I'm not going in with you."

I would have been less surprised if he'd said he'd decided to join a show choir. "What?"

"It was ill-advised from the start for me to go into Club Dead. I am too recognizable. This new development on top of the fact that it will cause major problems if one of the King's people recognizes me means I need to stay out of sight."

I resist stomping my foot, and take a deep breath. I am a new Sookie. I can discuss this rationally; yes I can. "I won't be able to go in there on my own, it's a supe club. I'm human."

"It's been taken care of" he says as he looks over my shoulder.

I turn to see Alcide Herveaux walking toward us. It takes all my will-power to keep from running up to him and hugging him. I know I must have an almost manic grin on my face, but I can't help it! I thought I would never see him again! And… wow, he looks good. His wild dark hair looks the same, and he's wearing a leather jacket and jeans that don't leave much to the imagination. I swear, he's the kind of guy they feature in underwear ads. I feel my pulse quicken at the memory of the brief moment we had together in his apartment.

Thank goodness Eric can no longer read my thoughts!

Eric introduces us and we shake hands.

I read Alcide to find that he is weary and mildly surprised. His mind is still red and kind of hazy since he's a were, but I can tune in a little. I must look very different than the first time he saw me in my house clothes in Timeline A… I wonder what I must look like to him? Attractive? Put together? Maybe kind of slutty, since I'm with Eric and wearing a short skirt?

Suddenly I feel like pouting. I don't want Alcide to think of me as anything but plain old Sookie that he got to know before. I want him to see my old, well-worn house, and know about Gran and to make him breakfast.

More than anything though I just feel glad he's here.

Sharp spikes of irritation suddenly make their way through the bond. Oh, right. Even if Eric can't hear me, he probably felt some of what I was feeling just now… and it probably doesn't help that Alcide took a good long look at me, and still hasn't let go of my hand.

Well, he can go ahead and be irritated. I suppose he can't help the situation (I _was_ wondering why it was so okay for him to come with me in this timeline when it wasn't before), but not talking to me, and pretty much running off has given me little reason to sooth his mood.

I disengage our hands and smile wide as I say "It's a pleasure to meet you. Thank you so much for helping on such short notice." I assume he is who Eric text; obviously until half an hour ago Eric hadn't planned on calling in the debt Alcide has to repay for his father.

"It's no problem, I live nearby… and it's never an imposition to spend the evening with a beautiful woman."

He smiles and I actually blush, probably because Eric is standing right there, looking at me and Alcide (granted, it's with the same expression people get when they've been asked to wait in line too long, but still).

"You will escort Sookie inside, and follow whatever requests she makes. Do not leave her alone. Do not tell anyone her name unless directly asked. I will be elsewhere in Jackson looking for leads. I am available by cell phone."

With that he turns to fly away, but not before appearing directly in front of me and leaning in. I was half expecting this, some sort of display in front of Alcide for Eric to mark me as his…

But instead he just hands me the car key, and in a low tense tone says "Be careful."

I reach out for him, but he's already flown away.

Alcide is also looking after him in shock. "Huh, I've never really seen one of them fly before." He says "one of them" like he's talking about a dung beetle, and I start to feel some resentment until images of Andre and Lorena flash in my mind. I suppose there are certainly vamps out in the world that promote fear and hatred. And anyway, Alcide was always respectful of my feelings toward Bill, so I'm sure it'll be the same with Eric.

"Sookie, right?" I turn and meet his green eyes; he looks serious. "Look, I don't mean to be rude, but you seem like a nice girl, so I want to be sure you know what you're getting into."

My mouth drops open a little. _More than you do_ I think. He goes on, "Eric is not a good guy. He's manipulative, and whatever he has over you, you should find a way out of it fast, because he's just going to use you to meet his own ends and then spit you out… maybe literally."

I stand there for a moment trying to think of what to say before I find myself replying honestly: "I know. I know Eric is selfish and ambitious, and that he has a brutal side to him." Alcide looks at me skeptically. Maybe he thinks I've been brainwashed or something. "But honestly, he is only here because I asked, well, more like _told_ him to be here." He looks even more skeptical, if that's possible. I go on: "I'm sorry he's leveraging something against you to make you do this, but please consider that there may be more to the situation than you can know, and that people aren't as simple as good and evil, or human and vampire."

Huh, did that come off preachy? I don't want him to feel like I'm talking down to him… "Anyway, all we're doing is looking for a friend in trouble, and I can take care of myself when it comes to vampires, so don't worry." The last bit may be a bit of a stretch, but between telepathy, my ring, and my newly improved physical abilities from Eric's blood, I feel pretty good walking into a bar full of supes.

That's me, _Super Sookie_.

I should probably tell him I'm a telepath before we go in so he understands what I need to do, but it feels so rushed. I don't want to freak him out. "You can take care of yourself, huh? What, are you ex-military or something? Special ops?" He looks me up and down, doubt once again cast on his features.

"Special _something_. Com'on" I say while casually hooking my arm with his to break the tension "let's go see if there's anything in Club Dead worth hearing."

Once inside and past Mr. Hob the goblin bouncer, Alcide and I take a seat in a booth in the corner with a good view of the room. It's less crowded than when I was here before, and I'm disappointed to see that there are far more weres than vampires (which means fewer human groupies to get information from).

After scanning the room Alcide says "What do you want to drink? I'll go up to the bar and bring them back."

"Oh, I'll go up with you." I should be able to do a quick scan of most of the people in the bar on the way, and there is one vampire at the bar (sort of the Antonio Banderas type) with a girl that looks young enough to still be in high school. Nothing interesting on the way… Alcide must think I'm pretty tight-lipped, seeing as I can listen to people and hold a conversation at the same time.

After ordering my champagne cocktail at the bar, I listen in on the girl (Cindy) to find that she's indeed only sixteen and has been telling people she is nineteen for the last two years. As young as she looks, I'm sure only skeezes like this vamp swallow the lie.

I sigh and take a sip. This is frustrating. Not only do I want to shake Cindy and tell her to go home to her mother, but it looks like tonight is turning into a bust. Things happened so quickly in Timeline A, but so far this time around there has been nothing but confusion and dead ends in Jackson.

The one bright side of the evening is that I get to chat with Alcide. He's more reserved than he was before, but by the end of the night he seems trust me more (he revealed his dad's gambling problem and even briefly mentioned Debbie). I look for an opening to tell him about my ability, but I can't seem to bring myself to do it yet.

Before I know it it's closing time and Alcide is leading me out to his truck. I remember that I have the key to the Audi, but figure Eric must be planning to pick me up and take me back to the car. I don't even notice where we are going until we pull into the parking area for Alcide's apartment building.

"Erm, is Eric coming by here to get me?"

"He didn't tell you?"

My stomach does an uncomfortable flip. "Tell me what?"

"He said you should stay here so that I can look after you tomorrow during the day. I guess he had some work to do." Alcide's tone is even, but I can tell that he thinks Eric has ditched me.

All I can do is nod as I get out of the car and make my way to Alcide's apartment. All night I'd been looking forward to seeing Eric. I knew he wouldn't want to talk about the situation right away, but I didn't think he would just… avoid it.

Lord, I feel like I've told my boyfriend I'm pregnant and he doesn't want to keep the baby.

Alcide is awkward, obviously he's aware of the upset this little arrangement has caused me. I shake myself as we enter the apartment. This isn't Alcide's fault; I don't want to appear ungrateful.

"Thank you so much for letting me stay here; it's a great place." I make sure to look around and looked charmed even though I've seen it all before.

He talks for a while about where everything is and to make myself at home. I can barely listen. My disappointment and sadness are churning into anger (as it often does for me when Eric is concerned). Why is it always like this with us? Can't we just have one month, one week, without death, or misunderstanding, or witches or wars?

Maybe this is just what it means to be with a vampire… or at least a vampire like Eric.

As I pass a shirtless Alcide in the hall on the way to bed, and he smiles genuinely at me, I suddenly start to picture a different relationship I could easily be having. A simpler one; a slightly more normal one.

It would certainly involve a lot less blood.

I sigh and turn over in bed, trying to get the image of me and Alcide playing with a beautiful baby in the sunshine out of my head.


	46. Chapter 46

Chapter 46

_Eric POV_

By the time I have checked in every storage facility, barn, underground stronghold and cave in Jackson, the sun is about to rise.

Fucking Bill.

All I want to do is lock myself in an empty room so I can ruminate on the mind-reading situation that has developed with Sookie, but instead I am looking for a fuddy-duddy needle in a city-sized haystack.

No matter what happened in timeline A, there is no guarantee that Lorena or Bill or the King will do what they did before, especially considering this time Bill had been forewarned about Lorena's betrayal. For all we know Bill confronted Lorena and she killed him. Or perhaps this time around she was able to fully seduce him to her will. Sookie's knowledge of what exactly happen between Bill, Lorena and the king in timeline A is unclear. I cannot understand how she doesn't know exactly what happened… from what I understand she broke up with Bill after the events in Jackson, but the Sookie I know would have demanded answers.

Is there something she's is not telling me? Or has she really changed that much? Where did they meet first? What was said and done? How did he end up on the King's property?

Without knowing exactly what involvement Lorena had with the database, predicting her actions becomes impossible. Even if we can assume that Bill is being held on the Kings property, getting in there will be very difficult. After a full night of searching I have no leads, and it seems Sookie is doing no better. The were text me as they left the club to report that there had been no progress.

Overall this is has been one of the most ill-prepared tactical missions I have been through… and I witnessed Napoleon's invasion of Russia in the dead of winter.

I push Bill's situation from my mind as I enter the hotel. In my last conscious moments I need to think about Sookie and telepathy.

In some ways it does seem like a natural progression of the bond. The ability to exchange feelings to the ability to exchange thoughts. But I find the idea of Sookie intruding on my thoughts to be fundamentally unsettling. I try to ignore the rush of what can only be called panic that jolts through me at the possibility of Sookie accessing my thoughts.

I have worked very hard over the last thousand years to control my actions. To act not on instinct, but on strategy. To ensure that no one is able to predict me. I care for Sookie as much as I have ever cared for a human, but fundamentally humans are weak. Humans are unable to accept their carnal nature. Sookie is not a killer. When the next time someone angers me and I want to rip their head off, will she be able to understand? My gut reaction to any given situation is often to kill, or maim or destroy. Sookie knows all this logically, but reading my thoughts…

She will see me as a monster.

More than that, I am entrusted with sensitive information. I have witnessed things which cannot be known by others. Sookie would not betray me, I know that. But she could be tortured; drugged… I know better than anyone that if someone has information, there is always a way to get it from them.

Sookie cannot have access to my thoughts.

Our time in the elevator keeps coming back to me. She did not hear me though I "yelled" my thoughts at her, and I did not hear her. Perhaps she can shield both of us enough so that nothing much has to change. Perhaps if she gave her word to never enter my mind without permission… Yes, Sookie is honest, and would keep her word.

My thoughts ease at this prospect; I will propose it to Sookie tomorrow night.

I still have some apprehension for the future, however. Where will this lead? If we exchange blood again will our minds open to each other permanently? Additionally, I am sure Sookie is angry at this point due to my abrupt departure… humans really can be exhausting...

My last thoughts as I drift into my inert state are musings on what to buy Sookie to make her forget about one day of neglect.

I wonder if the rental car is available for purchase…

* * *

_Sookie POV_

It's not even nine am; I try to go back to sleep. There are so many hours until sunset. In timeline A I would be meeting Janice and getting my hair done, but all I can do now is think about Eric… which makes me anxious and guilty since I really _should_ be thinking about saving Bill.

Alcide told me to go to Janice's place and get my hair done, but I don't want to get involved. I don't want to see her "oh I hope you get with my brother" face. Seemingly on autopilot my thoughts shift back to Eric…

I swear, he is such an uncommunicative bastard sometimes! I get that he's upset. I'm upset! But to just bail like that. He better not even be _thinking_ about ending things entirely! I have finally become well-adjusted enough to handle these dang feelings I have for him; I'm not going to give up now just because of a little telepathy! Doesn't he see that this could be used to our advantage? We could "call" each other if we get into trouble (okay, yeah, it would probably be me calling him), and exchange info without speaking…

If he would just communicate instead of running off to try and solve everything himself.

Errr, I can't take this any more!

I leave and take a walk. Before I know it I'm in front of Alcide's sister's place and my legs are walking me in. Janice is as warm and friendly as she was before. Her face drops as I mention that I have a boyfriend. I've decided things will go a lot better if I drop this silly Alcide-is-my-fake-beau thing. Debbie should be easier to handle, and it's not like anyone in Club Dead is going to be asking for proof of our relationship. I have a boyfriend and his name is Eric. Yep. Boyfriend. What a ridiculous word to call Eric; it seems so childish. As she asks about him I start to go off, and without the bloody details (pun intended) I manage to complain about his complicated relationship with his boss, how he doesn't communicate, and how sometimes I feel like I am dating someone who could drop me at any minute and not feel a thing (my brain starts to refute that last one, but I'm on a girl-talk roll here!).

Two hours later my hair is falling in beautiful waves down my back and I feel ten times lighter. I really do stay in my own head too much; it always surprises me how much just talking to someone else can make you feel better. I get some lunch and decide to spend the rest of the afternoon Christmas shopping. I don't even remember Christmas in Timeline A… I'm sure someone was dying or some terrible thing was happening and it just got overshadowed. Not this year! This year I am NewSookie, and I am determined to find a balance between normal and… whatever it is my life spiraled into before.

By the time I've packed up the gifts I've bought into the new cheap suitcase I picked up to put it all in, the sun is just starting to set. I leave a note for Alcide and head over to the hotel. I don't care if Eric wants to ignore me for another night. I don't care if it's kind of rude to just ditch Alcide with just a note. Club Dead won't be busy for another few hours, and I want this figured out.

I am determined that Eric and I are going to talk about this.

Yes, Sookie Stackhouse wants to talk about her relationship with Eric, to Eric.

Lordy have I changed.

* * *

_Eric POV_

It's the clearest a dream has ever been. I don't know if I made it happen by focusing on that time in Sookie's alternate reality, but I have seen the aftermath of the Lorena/Jackson situation in Timeline A. Sookie said Debbie had trapped her and Bill in the trunk of a car.

She did not mention what happened in said trunk. I can still see her as I opened the trunk.

I want to eviscerate Bill.

I don't care that he is not the Bill that hurt Sookie… I don't care. There is such a deep rage building in me as I awaken that I don't even notice that Sookie is in the room, sitting at the small table by the window.

I finally begin to stir and she looks over at me, getting up and taking her chair with her. She sits it at the side of the bed and says in a calm, clear voice:

"We are talking about this, right now. You may want to "figure it out" on your own, but it involves both of us and I refuse to let you shut off communication between us."

She reminds me of the Sookie I first met. Calm, confident.

"Communication?" I state calmly back. "I wouldn't want to not communicate, not when you have been so open. Tell me, what exactly happened in that trunk in Timeline A?"

Her eyes widen and her mouth drops open a little. "Wha- what do you mean?"

"I believe you said: 'Bill and I were locked in the truck until you found us, then you took me home.' That's what you said happened, correct?"

She just nods and looks at the blackened windows.

Fuck. Worry, sadness, disgust, fear. All start emanating through the bond. I don't want to make her feel that pain again. Fuck, it's Bill I hate, not Sookie. I scoop her into my lap and try to send some kind of reassurance through the bond, but her feelings don't change. The shields. She must still be mentally shielding me.

Well, there's more than one way to skin a cat. I hug her close and say "Why didn't you tell me?"

She sighs and curls into me. "I didn't want you to see me as a victim. I didn't want you to blame Bill. I don't blame him, how could I? They'd starved him and tortured him, and then he was locked in a tiny space with me… I just know that it wasn't really him biting me. He was out of control. I was angry with him, but I couldn't… how could I blame him when I still loved him? Even now it doesn't feel real. It wasn't really Bill; it wasn't really rape."

Rape.

I stand and set Sookie on the edge of the bed. Not only did Bill almost drain Sookie, ripping at her neck like a wild dog, he then raped her. Things are about to get very unpleasant if I don't get myself together. I sit cross-legged on the floor and start with the basic visualizations. My maker taught me several techniques in my early years to remain calm and in control. My first hundred years or so I was particularly bad at controlling myself.

I hear Sookie shift on the bed.

"Eric?"

I can't respond. Not yet. Her attitude about it. I can't stand it.

Suddenly I feel her through the bond, overwhelming me. Warmth. Love. Acceptance. My rage becomes a dull roar in my ears and I am able to open my eyes. How can I convince her to let me kill Bill?

"Many vampires would have done the same thing in his position, it's true. But we can learn control. We can possess ourselves. Bill did what he did because he always allows himself to fail under the guise of having no other choice. He goes back to Lorena. He gives in to orders. His is at fault. He gave in. I'm sorry you can't see that, but this is it. I cannot accept him."

She sighs and rubs her face. "First, I am still not side-tracked about this telepathy issue. Second, take a minute to think about this: what if it had been some slutty fang-banger that had been in the trunk and not me? Would you still be upset at Bill's lack of control? No, you wouldn't have given it a second thought. I'm not saying you don't have a right to feel the way that you do. I'm glad you are so on my side… but I think you are letting your feelings cloud your judgment. Didn't you say it was brave of Bill to come here? And I'm sure you're aware that this isn't the same Bill. You're not the same Eric either. I don't hold you accountable for Eric A's actions."

I don't care. I don't care.

Damn it. She's right, I'm reacting with total disregard for the larger picture. How can I be rational like this, when the thought of Sookie in pain literally drives me mad? How does she do this to me?

She smiles and comes to sit on the floor by me. "Well, now that that's squared away, lets talk about this whole 'talking with our brains thing.'"

I wonder if telling her I bought her a car would distract her?

* * *

_Bill POV_

I am a fool indeed.

I have now been chained in this shed for over twelve hours, and Lorena has only come in once. Knowing her I will be left in here for days before the real torture starts. She's the only one I've seen, but given how I was ambushed at the airport, Sookie was right to predict Russell Edgington's involvement. Did she know about the ambush at the airport? Once again I have let Lorena's pull over me run away from what is actually important.

I let my head fall and feel the silver around my neck burn further into my cool flesh. I relish the pain. Maybe it will help engrain the lesson I have never been able to learn.

The door slides open and Lorena strides in along with who I presume to be Russell Edgington. She just stands there smiling as he asks his first question.

"Where exactly, might I find the lovely Sookie Stackhouse?"

**A/N**: Happy holidays readers! I finally got a chapter out, and I know where I am going from here. Hooray! Thanks for sticking with the story; it won't be a WIP forever, I promise. So many of my fave ff stories seems rushed or quite simply not as good toward the end, and now I know why. I have kind of lost my passion for the Sookieverse, but I vow to continue, and try to make the last 10, 15 or however many chapters are left as good as the rest of the story (however good you think that is!)


	47. Chapter 47

Chapter 47

_Bill POV_

The door slides open and Lorena strides in along with who I presume to be Russell Edgington. She just stands there smiling as he asks his first question.

"Where exactly, might I find the lovely Sookie Stackhouse?"

It is entirely possible that in all of my years, human and vampire, I have never been more surprised.

It's on the tip of my tongue, to ask what the hell they want with Sookie, but I owe her more than that. I will not say anything; not one word. I will not acknowledge that I know anything abut Sookie. I will not play their game.

Because if there is one thing I know, it is that Sookie is worth more than the life of a vampire.

* * *

_Sookie POV_

I am exhausted.

We had _the talk_. At one time my mind would have immediately associated "the talk" with the birds and the bees, but now it refers to the long needed discussion between me and my 1,000 year old vampire boyfriend and the fact that we can read each others minds cause I've had so much of his blood.

I should really be writing all of this down; I bet it would be a best-seller. A whole series of best-sellers even…

The Talk. I don't know if I have ever had such a long, drawn-out conversation in all my life. Finally, _finally_ Eric and I seem to be on the same page. Even now I can tell there's some other reason than "security" that he doesn't want me in his head. Fine, well, not fine, but I just have to choose to trust him. I get all his points about not becoming a target, and not risking more involvement in vampire affairs than 100% necessary. If anyone found out this mind-meld thing was happening to us, it would be game over. Even he couldn't stop the mass of vamps that would be out for my immortal-mind-reading-butt (my words, not his).

And yeah, I don't really want to know where the bodies are buried when it comes to his business (both literal and not). If ever someone was torturing me to get info on him, I wouldn't even want the knowledge in my brain.

But that's not his only reason for wanting to me to close our minds from each other. Sigh.

He did allow for what I have deemed "an emergency connection." Basically, I'm keeping out psychic link open the tiniest bit, like a little strand of spider web linking our brains. If I ever get into a spot I can't get out of, I'll be able to use it to send out kind of an SOS signal. It'll take a little practicing, but Eric has had some psychic training before that is making things easier (he didn't call it psychic training, but when he concentrates and clears his mind, he can sort of erode the shields I built around him). I've seen it a few times before in people that spend a long time praying or meditating. They somehow have more control over outside-access to their minds, like having a door where most people have big, unguarded swirly mess.

If he can let his shields down after my emergency message, we will be able to communicate. He wanted to test it out and perfect it right away, but I cannot stand another second of not looking for Bill. This is not some Sookie/Eric relationship retreat; it's a mission to save my friend... I hope that's still what it is.

The longer we wait the more I feel like it will be identifying what's left of a body.

* * *

_Bill POV_

Lorena is getting visibly angry now... which is rather out of character for her. Hours of senseless torture and she is finally talking, finally asking questions again. Edgington's been gone since it became apparent that I wouldn't be talking any time soon.

"Have fun," he told her. Sometimes I truly am convinced that we are the monsters humans paint us to be... but then, so are they.

"I really am getting tired of this William. I know we have had our differences, but protecting some human you've only known for a millisecond and refusing me as your maker is just insulting."

All she wants to know about is Sookie. It doesn't make sense. Is this some trick to throw me off so they can get to the database? Do they think Sookie has it? No... no, there is something else going on here. Somehow Sookie has become a desired acquisition. I look away from Lorena as she pulls a blow-torch out of a box she dragged in earlier.

Sookie.

* * *

_Sookie POV_

I meet up with Alcide at dusk and check out a few supe hang-outs around town, but they turn up nothing. Eric has exhausted almost every possible hide-out other than the Edgington mansion. By eight we are back in Club Dead, and I'm feeling hopeful. None of the people I see look familiar, but I'm hoping Russell Edgington or someone in his group will show up. Bill held out under torture in Timeline A, so if we can move fast enough I know we can save him.

Eric is still wary of entering the King's turf, but it seems like that is where Bill _has_ to be. I just need an in to the mansion. Once there I can check the shed he was held in before, and if he isn't there, I'll try and read as many humans as possible.

How is it with all the foresight and time to plan in the world that it always comes down to: 'jump in blind and read as many people as possible to figure it out'?

I sigh and look down at my campaign cocktail. I realize that I've been ignoring Alcide, but he doesn't seem to mind, he's too busy staring at Debbie and her fiancé. How much do I want to go up to that bitch and punch her square in the jaw for everything she did? A lot. But I have to believe that she didn't know she was trapping me in the trunk with a starving vampire. I have to believe in a world where the person Alcide loved is not a total and complete monster.

Love makes monsters of us all, right? Is that a saying? Hmm, maybe drinking this campaign cocktail on an empty stomach was a bad idea…

I turn to Alcide to tell him that I want to circle the room when I see Debbie coming toward us. The fiancé is still at their table with their loud friends, and he looks put out. Okay, here we go: Operation Don't Throw Debbie into a Fit of Murderous Rage.

"Hello Alcide" she purrs. "Who's your new friend? Did you borrow her for the evening?" Bitch.

I laugh in the most natural, care-free way I can and lean slightly away from Alcide. "I guess you could say that; my boyfriend and I are only in town for a few days and since he is busy with work tonight Alcide offered to take me out."

I read confusion on her. How much clearer could I be? Boyfriend, in town for a short while, a foot of space between me and him. I try not to roll my eyes at the crazy tension between them, feeling none of it and really wanting to shake off the buzz my drink has given me. Alright Debbie, here's my final hint.

"I'll let you two catch up; I'm going to go snag some water at the bar." With a sincere smile at them both I leave for the bar and scoop up a handful of nuts while waiting for the bartender to notice me so I can ask for a bottle of water. I stay at the bar and drink my water, observing Alcide and Debbie. They actually look pretty good together. Is it possible that my intrusion into Alcide's life in Timeline A interrupted what was meant to be? Sure, Debbie is crazy, but they really do love each other. Maybe Debbie will dump her owl fiancé and she and Alcide can for some kind of life when (if?) he takes over the pack.

I'm getting distracted again; Bill has to be my priority. I scan everyone near me at the bar, but it's just the usual: sex, money problems, pregnancy. Huh, excitement? I hone in on a tall, thin Hispanic-looking human in his mid-twenties at the end of the bar. He's excited because… because Russell Edgington is supposedly coming tonight. The human was invited back to his mansion from Club Dead last week and he hopes he'll get an invite again.

This is it; I'll finally get some answers tonight.

Like magic, within minutes Edgington and his entire entourage (including Talbot) have entered the club. I turn back to the bar and gather my wits. I can't stop thinking QUICK, ACT CASUAL! Which apparently means chugging the last of my water until I'm choking.

"My dear, are you alright?"

Oh lord, since when is Edgington such a concerned citizen? I look up to find him right in front of my offering his handkerchief. Knowing vampires, taking a handkerchief probably means I'm bound to some kind of indentured servitude, so I politely shake my head. I know I'm blushing, but I hope it comes off as a result of choking.

"I'm fine, thanks. I just swallowed wrong." He tucks the silk back in his coat pocket and I survey the people that came to the bar with him. One human, a young boy (he looks all of sixteen, but it turns out that he's actually in his twenties). He doesn't have anything on Bill, but I am able to read that Lorena is staying with them.

"My name is Russell Edgington, and you are?"

I'm just about to reply when I get the briefest flash off of him.

_Where exactly, might I find the lovely Sookie Stackhouse?_

Bill, he has Bill. And he's… looking for me?

Somehow I stammer "Portia. Portia Bellefleur." I have no doubt that I must look upset enough that as I make an excuse to leave because I don't feel well that he let's me go.

"Pleasure to meet you Portia. I hope to see you again." I get major jealousy vibes from 20-something Hispanic guy as I make my way back to Alcide.

"Alcide, I don't feel well all of a sudden. Could you please take my back to the hotel?" At the word hotel Debbie's rage-o-meter starts to go off the charts. I give her a weak smile, "My boyfriend is a vampire, so he should be able to stay up all night with me if I start throwing up." Get it? I'm not a threat.

She relaxes and excuses herself and we make our way to the exit.

Once back in his truck it occurs to me to ask. "Alcide, did you tell my name to anyone? Did you tell my name to Debbie?"

"Uh, yeah, I think I told her your name… was I not supposed to?"

Okay, it could still be okay. "Please get me back to the hotel as fast as possible." I call Eric and lay everything out: Edgington and Lorena definitely have Bill. Edgington wants me, and knows my name somehow. Edgington is currently in the same bar with a loud woman who has a strong dislike for me and knows who I am.

I hear him thinking through the phone, not literally. After a few beats he says exactly what I'm thinking.

"There is a chance Edgington will not interact with Debbie or even learn of your presence here tonight. However, if he is torturing Bill to get to you, he is on the right track and we need to move as quickly as possible."

I look at the clock on the dashboard. It's 12:06 am.

"We have to get him tonight."

* * *

**A/N**: A new chapter on April Fools! I guess holidays inspire me :) Many of you have written me encouraging me to continue. Thank you so much; your feedback is a large part of why I keep doing this. As I mentioned in my last post, it has gotten difficult for me to get back in to the SVM universe, but I promise promise promise to keep writing this story until it is finished.

Fangirl's honor.


End file.
